Healing Touch
by Thoughtful Constellations
Summary: Emma Carroll is the nurse assigned to Capt. Steve Rogers when he wakes up in 2011. Drawn to him and opening up to him in ways she never has before, she helps him transition to the modern world. As Steve struggles to accept his new reality and let go of the past, he teaches Emma what it truly means to heal. Sequel to Survival Skills (Ironman fic). Captain America/OC.
1. Awakening

Chapter 1

Emma Carroll was used to chaos. It was part of being a nurse. However, at SHIELD's hospital, chaos was written in the job description.

Emma knocked on the door frame of the small hospital room and walked in. A muscular blonde man named Captain Steve Rogers was lying on the hospital bed, gazing out of the window with an expression on his face that was clearly distraught. Emma had been caring for him as his nurse for the past month while he'd been knocked out cold, and she felt slightly awkward now in front of the man that she had seen in such a vulnerable state when he'd been unconscious. She tried to attribute her awkward feelings to that fact instead of the fact that she found him incredibly attractive. She had to at least try to be professional about it.

After this morning when he'd woken up and run out of the hospital into the middle of Times Square, she could only imagine how embarrassed he felt. She didn't know the exact details of what had happened, but she saw that the man in front of her was much more calm than the man who had so frantically panicked and run out of the room. She studied the handsome face in front of her, the tense jaw, the hard eyes. He was going to have a hard time of it.

The feeling in the room was different. It was heavy, and she could feel it pressing in on her chest. His despair clung onto her, and she fought the urge to brush her arms if only to ensure that she was free. She cleared her throat in attempts to get his attention. His head snapped towards her, and he slowly sat up, seeing her standing expectantly nearby.

"Hi, Captain Rogers," she said pleasantly. "I'm Emma Carroll, your nurse."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," he replied quietly with a polite head nod. He looked at her, but he seemed to be looking right through her. He clearly wasn't in the mood for small talk. His mind was somewhere else.

"I've actually been your nurse for a month now, but you were unconscious. Until today, that is," she said with a nervous laugh. He forced a polite smile back at her.

"I've come to take your vitals, if that's all right," she said. He nodded. She stepped forward and put a blood pressure cuff around his bicep. His muscle tensed at her touch, and she could feel his eyes boring into her skull. She held her hand on his skin a touch longer than she should have, and she knew it. His skin was so hot to the touch. She quickly got his blood temperature and wrote it down on her chart. He hadn't looked away from her, and she felt heat rising into her cheeks.

Steve watched her and easily complied as she took his temperature and oxygen level. The nurse was young, around his age, and she looked nothing at all like Peggy. Peggy had been thin but curvy with black eyes and black hair. She'd been solid with a no-nonsense attitude, two things that Steve had loved about her. The nurse in front of him had light golden brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and green-grey eyes. She was small and skinny, and she had a quiet reserve about her, the exact opposite of Peggy. His throat tightened as he thought about her. He looked away from the nurse and down at his hands as she continued writing the rest of his vital signs down on her chart.

"I'm done for now. Do you need anything? Water? Food? I can probably sneak you in a snack," she said with a smile. He shook his head.

"No thank you, ma'am," he answered.

"Alright, well, if there's anything you need, let me know, ok?" she said. He nodded.

"Yes, ma'am."

As Emma exited the room, she realized that she'd been holding her breath. She deposited the chart in the slot outside of Captain Rogers's room, and she walked down to the nurses' lounge to grab a cup of coffee. She'd been working for seven hours already, and she needed a break, particularly after having just left that room. She hadn't even been in the room with Captain Rogers for ten minutes, and she'd already felt his mood start to bring her down. She breathed slowly through her nose, feeling the blood rush back into her body, and shook it off. God, she hated depressing things. Funny how she'd chosen to be a nurse.

"Hey, I heard your patient woke up," Felicia, a fellow nurse and Emma's friend, said as Emma walked into the room. Emma shot her a wide-eyed look and nodded.

"Yeah. I just got his vitals. God, I was half afraid he was going to have a break down," she replied. "I mean, I guess I can't blame him. He gets knocked out in the 1940s, and he wakes up, and it's 2011. That'd be enough to knock me for a loop."

"Come on, don't you feel a little special that you were attached to his case? Everyone's been going crazy about it." Felicia flicked a piece of blonde hair out of her brown eyes. Emma considered the question. In a way, she did feel special because Captain Steve Rogers was the talk of SHIELD at the moment. He'd been presumed MIA and then KIA, and suddenly he was alive again.

"I guess so," she replied slowly as she thought about it. "I just know that Director Fury's going to be breathing down my back. God, I can't imagine what it's like to wake up and find that everything's changed. Your family's dead. Your friends are dead. You don't have anyone left to tell that you're still alive."

"Actually, word on the street is that Tony Stark is stepping up to the plate," Felicia said.

"_Tony Stark_?" Emma stressed in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

"I think Stark's dad was friends or something with Captain Rogers back in the day, and since the dad's dead, they figured that Stark might be interested to know, so they called him and told him. Said that if there were any medical fees, he was going to cover them," Felicia said.

"How do you even know this?" Emma asked. Felicia grinned conspiratorially at her and winked.

"I have my ways. Hey, I have to run. I just finished my break and need to get started. Do you want to get dinner after our shift's over?"

"Yeah, I'd love to. You finish at eight tonight, right?"

"Yeah, same time as you."

"Ok, I'll see you then!" Emma gulped down a few more sips of her coffee and sighed, falling back into the couch. She ran a hand over the top of her light hair and tried to relax for whatever remaining time that she had.

She was used to the long days at the SHIELD hospital. She'd been there since eight in the morning, and she'd dealt with a number of cases. Working at SHIELD was very different than any other hospital. Well, she'd never worked in another hospital but SHIELD, but she knew. Everyone was always running around doing top secret things, and you were never allowed to ask too many questions, but you heard lots of things that you weren't supposed to anyway. Everyone always knew more than they should, especially the nurses.

Emma had been hired at SHIELD as soon as she'd graduated from nursing school. In fact, she'd been hired before she'd even graduated. She knew that she'd been extremely lucky landing the job, considering that she hadn't even interviewed. One second she was studying for a test, and the next second a man in a black uniform of some type had approached her saying that he was from an organization called SHIELD. SHIELD had been watching Emma, and they were impressed with her nursing skills and wanted to offer her a job with them for after she graduated, and she'd accepted.

There were always unanswered questions when it came to SHIELD, and one of those was how she'd been hired. How had SHIELD even known to watch out for her anyway? How did they have access to her grades? _She _didn't even have access to her grades. Sure, she'd been the top of her class, but how had SHIELD known that? Nonetheless, she'd accepted the job, and she'd been working there pretty much the second she'd finished walking across the stage at Fordham University.

"Hey, Emma," another nurse named Sarah poked around the door frame in the nurses' lounge. "Agent Coulson is looking for you."

Emma frowned, and she stood up with a sigh. She couldn't get even a few minutes by herself to enjoy her coffee. However, she was used to this, and she walked out into the hall to see Phil Coulson and a few other agents waiting for her. He smiled pleasantly at the nurse in front of him and held out his hand to her.

"Nurse Carroll, it's a pleasure seeing you again as always," he said.

"It's nice to see you, too. What can I help you with?" she asked.

"I'd like to debrief you on some things regarding Captain Rogers. If we could speak with you in private?"

"Yes, yes, of course," she said. She was curious if nothing else. She'd never been "debriefed" on any of her patients here at SHIELD. She knew that all of the agents she'd worked on had been involved in top secret things, but she'd never been allowed to know any of it until now. Nervousness bubbled in her stomach as she followed the agents into one of the many conference rooms SHIELD had.

"Please, have a seat, Nurse Carroll. We're waiting for one more," Coulson said easily. She nodded. She noticed that Dr. Francis, Captain Rogers's assigned doctor, was also in the conference room. The two exchanged a quick, friendly, professional nod, and Emma sat down. A few agents began talking in hushed tones, occasionally glancing about to see if anyone was looking. The agents had guns on their hip belts. Emma felt her skin crawl as she realized how serious this was. She wondered if she could get away with running out of the room.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and in walked a familiar face. At least, a face that she recognized from being in magazines and on TV.

"Is this the party?" Tony Stark barked out as he surveyed the room through his signature sunglasses. Emma had never met Tony Stark, but she'd heard a lot about him. She'd never been this close to anyone famous before, and her nervousness intensified. Tony Stark certainly didn't disappoint. He looked his typical self in a casual suit and tie, his hair looking its usual windblown, rugged look. He had deep, soulful brown eyes that were currently scanning the room.

"Tony, please, join us," Coulson said as he stood up. He reached out for Tony's hand, and Tony shook it with a firm grip. "How've you been getting along without Grace to keep you in line?"

Tony smirked at Coulson's question.

"You know, falling apart at the seams. The usual whenever she goes on a mission," he answered nonchalantly. "I tell her to quit everyday."

Coulson laughed in response. "I'm sure you do. Tony, these are the agents assigned to Captain Rogers's case. This is Agent Davis, Agent Roscoe, and Agent Moore. Dr. Francis is the physician assigned to Captain Rogers, and Nurse Carroll has been assigned to take care of him."

Tony's eyes scanned over everyone, and he nodded sharply at everyone.

"Alright, let's get down to business," he said, and he sat down in a chair at the head of the conference table. Emma noticed that he did it as if he owned the place. Had the hospital not been operated by SHIELD, she wouldn't have been surprised if he did. Tony cleared his throat.

"Any medical fees that SHIELD doesn't cover, I'm covering," he said in a business-like tone. "I don't want updates or anything like that. Just like, let me know if he's dying or released or whatever."

"Dr. Francis, I've already spoken to you about Captain Rogers's healthcare, and from what you've said, he's in amazing physical shape. It's just emotionally that he might be having a few issues with," Coulson said diplomatically. Dr. Francis nodded.

"For a guy who was born in the 1920s, he doesn't at all have the physicality for it," she said. "It's a wonder that he's even alive at all. Physically, he's perfect. Everything is the way it should be. In all honesty, it's as if he walked in here after he'd gone for a run and worked out for several hours. That's how in shape he is. But mentally and emotionally? I don't know. I don't want to submit him to anything demanding."

"That's where you come in," Coulson said, turning to Emma. Emma raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Where I come in?" she repeated. Coulson nodded.

"You're his nurse. You're also the closest person to his age at this hospital. We're assigning you to him," he said.

"Assigning me to him…" Emma wanted to slap herself across the face. She sounded like a damn parrot repeating everything they said. A look of annoyance flashed through her grey-green eyes.

"Get him to open up to you," Coulson said. "He won't do it with any of us because he knows that we're SHIELD agents. He doesn't trust us. But you. He can trust you."

"You want me to get him to trust me and tell me how he feels about all of this happening to him but not tell him that I'm telling you guys," she said slowly, taking in everything that they were saying. Her gut was screaming NO at her. She'd never done anything like that before. It went against everything she stood for. Emma Carroll was a woman of honesty. She firmly believed that honesty was the most important thing in any relationship, whether it was friend to friend, boyfriend to girlfriend, wife to husband, or nurse to patient. She would be lying to the already dreadfully confused and tortured man, thereby confusing and torturing him even more.

"In a sense, yes," Coulson replied.

"Ah, they always suck them in young," Tony quipped. One of the agents with Coulson shot Tony a dirty look. If Tony saw it, he ignored it and leaned back in his chair, watching the scene progress with an amused look on his face.

"He's been through a lot," Emma replied in an attempt to sound like she wasn't flat out saying no.

"Everyone has shit going on, but you can't be an oversensitive crier over it," Tony said bluntly. "What? It's true. Don't give me that look, Coulson. Look, I'm not trying to be an ass. I'm just pointing out facts. Honestly, if it were up to me, I'd say to hell with his feelings, but you guys are the ones wanting to be all sneaky about how he's feeling."

"He doesn't trust us," Coulson said slowly, as if he were explaining a simple concept to a little kid who just didn't understand it no matter how many times it'd been explained previously. "Nurse Carroll can win his trust."

Emma was silent. She hadn't signed on for this when she'd agreed to work at SHIELD. She'd signed on to be a nurse, to take care of patients and make sure they didn't croak while they were at the hospital. She wasn't there to be a spy.

"Emma, look, we need you. We need your help," Coulson pleaded. Emma made eye contact with Coulson, and she remembered Steve Rogers lying in his bed looking so forlorn and desperate and sad. She remembered how hard his eyes had been, how confused he'd looked. She remembered how he'd stared through her as if she hadn't even been there. She could help him, she thought. If she could get the information that SHIELD needed, maybe she could also help him heal. She'd be doing something good in the process. Looking at each of the agents in the room and at Tony Stark, she made her decision. She looked back at Coulson.

"Ok."


	2. Agent Marks

**Hi, guys! Told you I'd be jumping right into this one ;)**

**Thank you so much for the wonderful response to the first chapter! Here's #2. This one's a bit long, so I hope y'all don't mind!**

**Shoutouts to hockeygurl39, Avengerlicious, and AppoloniaAstria! Keep reviewing and letting me know what you like, don't like, and want more of!**

**For the new readers, this is a sequel to my Iron Man fic Survival Skills. If you want, give that a read, and this one'll make a little bit more sense =)**

* * *

Chapter 2

Emma had never been a part of anything top secret, and here she was in the middle of a top secret assignment. She still felt uneasy about the whole "gain his trust and tell us everything he's feeling" aspect, but she wanted to help the sad young man who had been entrusted in her care. If she could help make things a little easier for him, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to tell SHIELD how he was feeling. Maybe it would help them understand him a little more. Or maybe she was just trying to justify what she was doing.

She splashed her face with cold water in the bathroom of the SHIELD hospital. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she wore a tiny smile of amusement. It was so cliché to splash water on herself and then to study herself in the mirror, she thought. It seemed so move-esque. Then again, she reasoned, with everything that had been happening today, she almost as if she _were _in a movie.

She patted her face dry with a rough brown paper towel and inspected her mascara in the mirror to make sure it was still in place. After she left the bathroom, she went into the snack pantry that they kept on each floor, and she grabbed a spoon and a cup of Jello. Cherry. Everyone loved cherry Jello. She briskly walked to Captain Rogers's room with a mission in mind. Outside the room, she took a deep breath and prepared herself for the heavy emotions that would be lying inside. She knocked on the door and walked in, a bright smile on her face.

"Hi, Captain," she said brightly. "I know you said you didn't want anything, but I managed to sneak a Jello out for you just in case you did."

The handsome young man was sitting in his hospital bed over the blankets. His blonde hair was styled just right, swept to the side, and he eyed the red cup and spoon in Emma's hand.

"I'm ok, thank you, ma'am," he said politely. Emma stood still awkwardly, wondering what to do with the Jello. He didn't want to socialize any more than he wanted to earlier. What had she gotten herself into?

"Well, I'll set it here for you in case you want it. Is there anything I can get for you?" she asked. "Do you want the TV on? Some people like watching the news while they're here. Makes them feel part of the world again."

Captain Rogers calmly regarded her with the slightest bit of interest added in his eyes. What she had said about the news made him feel like she knew just what to say.

"Ma'am, that's what I'm afraid of," he said with a dry smile on his face. Emma was taken aback by the fact that he'd actually said something more than polite niceties to her, but honestly, she was thrilled.

"I'm one of those people that hates feeling disconnected from everything," she said, hoping to engage him in some kind of conversation. Instead, he simply glanced at her and nodded, not adding any more. Emma felt the silence sweep over her skin, and she decided that it was probably time to leave. She'd gotten somewhere…kind of.

"Well, the remote's there on your nightstand in case you want to watch anything," she said finally. Captain Rogers looked at her with a confused frown on his face.

"Remote?" he asked. Heat rushed to Emma's face as she realized that he had no idea what a remote was. Remotes hadn't been invented back in the 1940s. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she sharply inhaled.

"Oh my goodness, I'm sorry," she said. "I wasn't thinking. Here. I'll show you how to use it."

She crossed to the nightstand by his bed, feeling his eyes on her as she walked around the bed. She held it out to him, and he took it gingerly as if he were afraid of breaking it.

"That's a remote. It controls the TV—the television. This red button turns it on and off. These arrows control which channel you want to watch, and the plus and minus buttons are for volume. The number buttons are so you can quickly get to a channel. Like, if you want to watch channel 53, you press 5 and 3, and you'll be there a lot more quickly than if you'd scrolled with the arrows. It's a pretty basic remote, but you can watch anything you want," she said. She watched Captain Rogers's face as she spoke. He was intently listening to her, but he was only looking even more confused by the device in his hand. He looked up at her with furrowed eyebrows.

"There are 53 channels?" he asked. She let out a small laugh and was surprised to even see a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Actually, there are hundreds of channels, but I know that that can be overwhelming. You'll be fine," she said reassuringly. He was still frowning as he examined the remote in his hand.

"There were only two channels on television in 1942," he said carefully, as if he didn't trust the small object.

"Captain, you're very far away from 1942," Emma replied quietly. His head jerked up, and he looked up at her. She turned away and walked towards the door.

"Let me know if you need anything, ok?" she asked. He nodded.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, regarding her strangely. She nodded with a small smile and left. She began walking away from the room when suddenly Agent Coulson appeared from seemingly nowhere.

"How is he?" he asked quietly. Emma paused and thought about how to answer that.

"Confused," she finally said. "I taught him how to use the remote."

"I've been trying to work the nerve to go in there and introduce myself," Coulson said, sounding almost shy. "I've always been a big fan of Captain America, and now here he is alive."

"I think he's really overwhelmed right now," she said carefully. "He was shocked to learn that there are more than two TV channels. Did you know that there were only 2 channels back in 1942? I didn't know that."

"I'll probably try to introduce myself when he's less…you know. Freaked out about being in a different era," Coulson said with a grin. Emma smiled back at him. Out of all the SHIELD agents she'd dealt with, Agent Coulson was her favorite. He was the only one who ever went out of his way to talk to her and see how she was. He was also the only one who talked to her as if she were a real person instead of an object.

Emma wasn't the type to be easily offended; it never particularly bothered her that most SHIELD agents looked past her without acknowledging that she was there to make their stay more comfortable. It was simply part of the job. It was also another part of working at SHIELD. All of the agents were so incredibly focused on each moment that it was hard for them to take a step back and relax. Many of them when they were brought in were difficult because they didn't like having to recover. They were so used to being physically active and always on the move with a mission.

Agent Coulson, on the other hand, took the time to talk to the nurses and thank them for whatever they did. He'd never been hospitalized during the time that Emma had been working there, but he was there all the time checking up on injured agents and debriefing others on things that had happened on their missions. Emma didn't know very much about Coulson, but she knew that he had a high enough clearance to have access to all types of secret information, and he was in charge of a lot of shit that her patients were involved in.

"What's Tony Stark's connection to Captain Rogers?" she asked suddenly. Coulson was taken slightly off guard; he wasn't used to nurses asking him questions about his agents. Nurses were told to not ask questions. The less details they knew, the better.

"His father Howard was really good friends with him," he replied. "Howard searched and searched for the guy after he disappeared. I think he died still believing that Captain Rogers was out there somewhere."

"Sounds like a good friend," Emma answered mildly. Coulson nodded.

"Tony's just like him, only more brilliant, if that's even possible," he said.

"He's, um, different," Emma replied.

"He's given SHIELD a lot of shit, that's for sure, but he's a lot better than he used to be, and that's saying something," Coulson remarked wryly. "Hey, I've gotta run. I have a meeting. I'll see you later, Nurse Carroll."

Emma waved goodbye to him, and she was left to herself again.

* * *

Emma was getting off in two hours, and she was exhausted. She'd been running around taking care of patients all afternoon, and she was ready to crash. Much to her chagrin, she remembered that she was getting dinner with Felicia after their shift was over. She held her cup of coffee in one hand and rubbed her eyes with her fingers on the other hand, hoping to relieve how tired her eyes felt. Every day ended with this weighty exhaustion, but she knew that she'd never change it for the world. She loved what she did. She loved helping people, even if the people were SHIELD agents.

"Hey, Em," Felicia said, quickly peeking around the door frame into the nurses' lounge. "Better drink up."

Emma narrowed her eyes at her friend. Felicia never seemed to run out of energy, and Emma envied that to no end. There were even a few times that Felicia had gone out dancing after a shift. Whenever Emma got off a shift, she immediately went to her small apartment, ordered some food in, and crashed. She'd shower if someone had thrown up on her or if she'd gotten extra bloody, but she was usually too tired to go out and do anything more. Felicia was an Energizer Bunny.

"Why?" Emma asked and swallowed a few large gulps of her coffee.

"Have you ever met Tony Stark's girlfriend?" Felicia asked, seemingly ignoring Emma's question. Emma frowned and shook her head.

"No. Why?" she asked again.

"Well, today's your lucky day because you get to meet her. She's being transported here, and they're going to land any second, and we have to hustle. Come on." Felicia gestured to Emma with her head to follow her. Emma quickly swallowed down as much coffee as she could before disposing of the Styrofoam cup in the trash can.

"You're in for a real treat," Felicia said wryly. They walked up the flight of stairs that led to the top floor Emergency Room that was saved for patients who were brought in by helicopter.

"Why? Is she difficult?" Emma asked. Felicia looked confused and shook her head vehemently as they walked down the hall.

"Oh, no. Not at all. She's one of the most delightful people in the world you'll ever meet. It's just Tony who's difficult whenever she's brought in."

"Why?"

And then on cue, the doors burst open, and a gurney was being rushed in. Emma and Felicia ran to it, listening to the doctors and nurses surrounding the gurney spout out numbers and data.

"Agent Grace Marks. Fell off a two-story building, severe concussion. She has major confusion, sensitive to light, headache, ringing in ears, difficulty focusing, and she's vomited five times on the way over here," an EMT rang out.

As Emma closed in on the gurney, she was greeted by the sight of a woman in the familiar black SHIELD suit. The woman was babbling incoherently, her eyes glassy and unfocused, and she was squinting against the light. When she had her eyes open, Emma could see the agent's eyes were a startlingly light amber color. Cuts and bruises lined the agent's face, and she was struggling to get up, but restraints kept her from going anywhere. She was trying to say something, but her lips wouldn't form the words.

"Clear Room 2, and we'll start treating her in there," a doctor announced. Emma helped push the gurney into the exam room.

"Hi, Agent, my name's Emma Carroll, and I'll be your nurse," she said. "Can you follow this light with your eyes?"

The agent wasn't able to follow the light coming from the small flashlight in Emma's hands. Instead, she squinted her eyes and tried to turn away from it. She kept repeating the same sounds that she was trying to say.

"Agent, can you try to follow the light?" Emma repeated. Agent Marks was completely disoriented, and Emma knew that it was no use trying to get her to follow the light.

"Do you know what year it is, Agent?" Emma asked. Agent Marks mumbled out a no, thankfully some kind of response showing that she could understand what was happening around her, somewhat.

"Do you know where you are, how you got here?" Agent Marks shook her head no again.

"You're lucky to be here, Agent," Felicia called out as she worked on cleaning one of the agent's cuts. "I don't know anyone else who would survive a fall off a two-story building."

Suddenly, the doors burst open, and Tony Stark ran frantically into the room.

"Grace!" he shouted. Agent Marks's ears perked up, and she immediately began trying to locate the voice. She was trying to lift herself up off the table, causing the nurses and doctors to push her back down.

"Someone get him out!" Dr. Laurents, one of the residents, shouted.

"Grace!" Tony shouted again, rushing to the gurney where Agent Marks had been transported.

"Tony," Agent Marks finally said. Emma realized that that was what the agent had been trying to say the whole time: she'd been trying to say Tony's name. Tony slipped in between nurses to grab the agent's hand.

"I want the best nurses and the best doctors taking care of her," he spat out to the medical officials tending to Agent Marks.

"Sir, you're going to have to move," Dr. Laurents snapped. "We're doing the best we can. You can either move out of the way, or we'll have security escort you out."

"Tony," Agent Marks repeated with difficulty, but she was saying it in a way that seemed to calm her down. Stark's presence had done a lot to calm her, Emma noticed. She paused, waiting for Stark to move.

He stared at the doctor, his lips twisting into a firm line, then back down at Agent Marks. He took his hand and smoothed her hair back. Emma saw the desperation in the agent's eyes as she struggled to focus on the man above her.

"Hi, honey, I'll be right here, ok? I'll be right here," he said quietly to her.

"Mr. Stark!" Dr. Laurents shouted.

"I love you, Grace, ok?" Tony kissed her in her hair.

"Tony," the agent murmured. Tony took that as an I love you too, and he moved off to the side of the room while Dr. Laurents and the nurses continued working on Agent Marks. Emma continued to try to get the agent to respond to her questions, and sometimes the agent would be able to focus long enough to nod or shake her head, but for the most part, she was too concussed to really respond too much. Every now and then she would turn her head and look at Tony as if she were checking to make sure that he were still there. Her strange amber eyes were glassy from the concussion, and it seemed like the only thing she could focus on for any time at all was the man on the side of the room.

Before long, the commotion had died down, and Agent Marks was transported to a room on the floor below, the floor that coincidentally happened to be the same floor that Captain Rogers was on. Emma finished writing down what she needed to on her chart and went out into the hall. Tony Stark was standing there looking extremely unhappy because Dr. Laurents had denied him access into the room until the nurses were done getting Agent Marks settled in.

"Mr. Stark," she said, "you can come in now."

Stark breezed past her and towards Agent Marks's bedside. Agent Marks was barely awake, her light eyes still glassed over from the severity of the concussion, but she acknowledged Tony's presence. The man sat down by her and grabbed her hand, pressing it to his lips. Emma felt like now was her time to leave, and she did. As she left the room, she saw Agent Coulson standing outside.

"You're everywhere today," she said. "I feel like every time I walk out of a patient's room you're going to be standing there."

"Oh, please, Nurse, I wouldn't put you through that kind of torture," he said with a smile. "I just wanted to check on Grace and see if she's ok. She's a good friend of mine."

"She's ok. Has a hell of a concussion, but she's lucky. She should be dead," Emma said.

"She always pulls through," Coulson relied. Emma bit the inside of her mouth, wondering whether or not it was appropriate to ask the next question. She had so many questions to ask, but she knew that it was against policy to ask. In all fairness, though, it was probably against policy to use nurses to get patients to open up to them. Fuck it, she thought.

"How'd she survive that?" she asked. "That fall should've killed someone."

"It's…" Coulson paused. "It's a long story."

"Code for you can't tell me?" Emma smiled. Coulson shrugged guiltily.

"We're already breaking a ton of rules," he answered. "I can't give you a direct answer, but I can say that she's had treatment very similar to Captain Rogers."

Connections clicked in Emma's brain, and she nodded slowly.

"I see," she said. "Well, I'm getting off soon so I'm going to do one last round. I'll see you later, Agent."

* * *

After finishing her final rounds, Emma walked down the hall to Captain Rogers's room and entered without knocking. She was surprised to see the man watching TV while holding the remote in his hand. He was focusing very hard on the images on the screen. When Emma walked in, he looked at her.

"Hi, Captain," she said. "My shift's almost over, and I'm getting ready to leave. Can I get you anything before I go?"

"No thank you, ma'am. I'm ok," Captain Rogers answered.

Emma nodded with a smile, and she went to turn away when she paused. She looked at Captain Rogers and stared hard at him.

"Are you ok? I mean, I guess that's a stupid question to ask. Considering that you're in some kind of futuristic world, and you don't know anyone," she said in a rush. Captain Rogers's blue eyes were filled with surprise at her question. She was frowning at him with an intensity he couldn't make out, but he could tell that she was genuine, that she genuinely wanted to know if he were ok.

"Ma'am," he spoke slowly, "I'm not entirely sure that I know the answer to that question myself."

Emma considered this, nodding as she took his answer in.

"When you figure it out, let me know?" she asked. He nodded.

"You'll be the first to know, ma'am. Thank you for checking in on me," he said. Emma nodded slowly, still frowning at him.

"Sleep well, ok, Captain?" she said.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Those are orders, Captain," she said, and finally a smile slid onto her face. Steve gave her that same small smile in return.

"Of course, ma'am."

As Emma walked away to go meet Felicia for dinner, she knew that something had changed between them. What had changed, though, she couldn't say at all.


	3. Gummy Snacks

**Shoutouts to my fabulous reviewers: songsweareplayingforyou, MsRose91, ILoveThee, and akt15!**

**Thank you so much for the positive feedback so far! I'm glad that y'all are liking Emma =) Don't worry, though, because Grace/Tony is still going to play a very large part in this story. I'm planning on doing a half-Emma, half-Grace/Tony thing (specific shoutout to akt15 for that). This chapter has a LOT more Grace/Tony in it, so let me know what you think of it!**

**Yeah, I posted two chapters in one day. What can I say...I got inspired :P**

* * *

Chapter 3

The next morning, Emma walked into Captain Rogers's room bright and early the very second her shift started. She wasn't surprised to find the captain already awake and sitting in his hospital bed looking bored to tears. His head lifted as she walked into the room, and she swore that she almost saw him smile.

"Good morning, Captain!" she greeted cheerfully. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "You gave me orders to."

"Did you just make a joke? Looks like you're in a good mood today," Emma replied.

"I only follow orders, ma'am," he answered with a polite nod of his head.

"Please, enough with the ma'am. It makes me feel like I'm your mom," she said. "How old are you anyway, Captain?"

"Technically speaking I would be 93 years old," he answered with a straight face. Emma stared at him, and then he cracked a smile. "It's ok, you can laugh."

"I wasn't thinking," she said apologetically. His blue eyes sincerely looked back at her, and for a brief flash they seemed less sad.

"I'm 24."

"Knew it. I'm 22. You can't call me ma'am. I'm younger than you, Captain," she said with a smirk.

"Steve," he corrected.

"Steve," she repeated. "Emma."

"Emma."

* * *

Emma was distracted as she went on her morning rounds checking patients' vital signs. There were a few sticky things that she had to clean up, and one agent was rushed in from a dangerous mission. She went through her duties without fully paying attention to everything. In a way, she was like a robot. Her body went through the actions, but her mind wasn't there in the slightest. It was still in the room with Captain Rogers. Steve.

Something had definitely changed between the two of them, but she still couldn't place a finger on it yet. He hadn't seemed quite so depressed this morning, and he was actually talking with her a little bit. He'd even asked her to call him Steve. Steve. They were on a first name basis now, she thought as she changed one patient's bedpan. The patient was a young man named Agent Greg Simmons who'd been in the hospital for two weeks. He'd been injured in an explosion, suffering third degree burns on 40% of his body, and for a while, the doctors weren't sure that he'd make it out alive. Alas, he was alive. He was silent, usually opting to sleep or watch Emma as she bustled about the room. He had never spoken a word to her, but every time she walked in the room she cheerfully greeted him in hopes that someday he would speak back.

She tucked a piece of her light-colored hair behind her ear after she finished washing her hands, and she went to check on Agent Marks. She knocked on the door frame and entered the room. Tony was still there; Emma knew that he hadn't left the agent's side since he'd arrived at the hospital yesterday. He didn't look particularly tired, but Emma could tell just from the way he was perched over the side of Agent Marks's bed.

"Good morning, Agent, Mr. Stark," Emma said. Tony nodded at her. Agent Marks was sound asleep, appearing dead to the world.

"How is she?" Emma asked Tony. He shrugged.

"Better, I guess. Her vital signs are better, but she's still real confused, and she doesn't say much. Doesn't remember what happened or how she got here," he said, his voice sounding forced.

"She's lucky," Emma replied quietly. Tony nodded sharply.

"I know," he said. "If she weren't who she is, she would've been killed."

"I'm not actually Agent Marks's nurse, but I just wanted to stop and check in and see how she's doing," she said. Tony frowned, staring at Emma, his dark brown eyes piercing into her.

"What do you mean you're not her nurse?" he demanded.

"I wasn't assigned to her," Emma replied.

"Effective immediately, you're now her nurse," he said officially. Emma shifted uncomfortably.

"The attending has to clear it," she said. Tony rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"I don't care. I want the best care for her. I saw how you talked to her yesterday when she was brought in," he answered.

Grace shifted on the bed and began to wake up. Emma crossed to her. The agent was still very confused; it was obvious by the way she looked at things around her. She squinted as the bright lights hit her sensitive amber eyes, and she was having trouble focusing.

"How are you feeling, Agent?" Emma asked. Grace looked at her and shook her head.

"Not so great," Tony translated. At the sound of his voice, Grace turned and looked at him, visibly relaxing as soon as her eyes settled on him. She struggled to focus on him, her eyebrows furrowing and her eyes squinting even more as she fought to keep the image of him still. He leaned forward and put his hand on her face.

"Hi, honey," he said softly, his thumb gently gliding over her cheek. "Hi, baby. Do you remember where you are?"

Grace nodded. She reached up and took hold of Tony's hand on the side of her face and closed her eyes. Emma felt strangely uncomfortable watching the two of them. She felt so on the outside of everything that she didn't know what to do. In all honesty, Emma Carroll had never really had a relationship. Sure, she'd dated a few guys here and there in college, but she'd never had anything serious with anyone, and watching Grace and Tony interact was oddly unnerving for her, as it was with every couple.

"I'm going to see if I can work up some breakfast for you guys, alright?" she interrupted. Tony nodded, but it was obvious that he wasn't paying attention to her. She slowly left the room, looking over her shoulder as she left.

"You should quit," Tony was saying as she exited the room.

Tony sighed and rested his head on the bar of the hospital bed. It was hard for him to see Grace like this; granted, he knew he wasn't in a place to judge because, hell, he was Iron Man. He did all kinds of crazy shit all the time that got him injured. Still, he justified to himself, he'd never been injured so badly that he'd ended up in the hospital. He kept trying to remind himself that Grace was lucky because she should've died from that fall, but he was having trouble keeping that in mind when she who was usually so strong was lying in a hospital bed looking so weak.

She'd been gone for three months. As usual, SHIELD had called her up on a top secret, ultra dangerous mission, and she'd had to go. Sure, Tony was proud of her in the same way that any boyfriend would be if he had a girlfriend who could go kick ass the way that Grace could. He was crazy with how proud he was of her, but God, did he wish that she were a normal person with a normal job. Then again, if she were a normal person, she wouldn't have survived that fall. The last image he'd had of her was the day she'd left. She'd woken him up with a hard kiss on his mouth. She'd been leaning over him, dressed in her SHIELD uniform. The sun wasn't even up yet it was so early. The light from his arc reactor was reflected back to him from her eyes.

"I'm heading out now," she whispered softly into his ear. "I'll miss you."

"I miss you already," he mumbled sleepily. She'd let out a gentle giggle and kissed him again.

"Stay in one piece while I'm gone. I mean it. I love you, ok?" That was their phrase. They always said it to each other.

"I love you, ok. Go kick some motherfucker's ass for me."

And she'd smiled at him. That had been his last memory of her. He'd thought of all the things that he'd wanted to update her on as soon as she returned from her mission. She'd missed out on three months of his life, and he'd missed out on three months of her life. She'd left him looking so alive, and he'd been looking forward to seeing her again. Now she was in the hospital looking so breakable. A very different image than what he'd pictured.

Tony had stayed with her all through the night, waking her up every few hours and asking her questions to make sure that she was responsive. It'd been harder than usual to wake her up; she could sleep through anything, he always said, and it was true. She always slept hard, but last night she'd slept harder than usual, and there had been several times that his heart had stopped with the fear that she wouldn't be waking up again. The warmth of her skin was the thing that let him know she was still alive, still there with him.

"You know, I'm kind of mad at you," he said suddenly. Grace frowned, her eyes narrowing in on him. He'd been with her for a year, and her eyes still gave him chills. Sometimes they were good chills, and sometimes they were bad chills.

"Mad," she repeated. That was the best that her verbal skills would be for the moment, and Tony would have to accept that.

"Yeah, I'm kind of mad at you because you're giving me a taste of my own medicine, and I don't like that," he said. Her frown deepened, and she blinked hard in an effort to stay focused on him.

"Medicine," she repeated.

"Yeah. Medicine. For three months I've had no idea where the fuck you were, and then I find out you fell off a building and should've died. Now I know how you must feel when I go on _my _missions," he said.

"Missions," she agreed quietly. Tony smiled despite himself.

"You seem to be fond of words beginning with m," he said. A smile came onto Grace's face, and she nodded.

"Dramatic," she said. Tony scoffed.

"Please, I'm not dramatic," he said defensively. "If anyone's being dramatic. It's you. You're the one running your mouth."

"Dramatic," she said more firmly. Tony leaned forward and kissed her temple, his lips lingering against her skin a few extra moments. He leaned his head against the top of hers, careful so as not to cause her any additional pain, and he breathed the smell of her in. Even though she mainly smelled of hospital chemicals, she still smelled like herself underneath the rest of it. He opened his eyes and kissed her again.

"Ok," she whispered to him with a smile. He nodded, knowing she was telling him she loved him.

"I love you, too, ok," he replied. For someone who was pretty clueless, he surprised himself on how easily he'd been able to pick up on Grace's mannerisms and check into her flow, as he so liked to phrase it. He didn't have any doubt about what Grace was saying; he just knew. Even with one word replies, they could carry on a conversation.

"I'm gonna run real quick to the vending machine. I'll be back," he said, giving her hand a squeeze before getting up and leaving.

At the vending machine, he was smug to learn that it sold Iron Man gummies. He casually purchased two packs of them, one for Grace and one for him when Dr. Laurents from yesterday approached him.

"Mr. Stark," she said in a clipped tone. He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Yes?" he replied.

"One of my nurses tells me that you've replaced her with Emma Carroll," she said unhappily. Her eyes blazed into Tony's, but Tony didn't feel any sense of concern. He rolled his eyes.

"What is this, Kindergarten? I didn't know that tattling was still a thing," he remarked smartly. Dr. Laurents folded her arms across her chest.

"Mr. Stark, you can't control my hospital," she said.

"Excuse me, but I want the best care for that woman lying in the room over there, do you understand?" Tony snapped. "I feel that Nurse Carroll is a better nurse than whoever was doing the job before, and I want her taking care of Agent Marks."

"Are you trying to tell me how to do my job?" Dr. Laurents demanded.

"Absolutely," Tony replied, quick as a whip. "In case you didn't know, I'm a billionaire, and I can donate a shit ton of money here. Medical supplies ain't cheap. Besides, I could always cancel our contract with this hospital."

Dr. Laurents was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and she knew it. She didn't say anything, instead just nodding sharply.

"Very well, Mr. Stark," she said tersely. "Emma Carroll is now officially assigned to Agent Marks."

"Fantastic," Tony quipped. "You're a lot smarter than you look."

Dr. Laurents left without a word. Tony smirked and headed back to Grace's room. She was, of course, lying right where he'd left her. He stalked back to his chair and collapsed into it.

"Look what the vending machines here sell," he said, handing Grace the pack of Iron Man gummies after opening it. She smiled.

"You," she said.

"Yeah, they sell me," he responded. "Chow down, Princess."

* * *

"Emma Carroll." The sound of Dr. Laurents's voice made Emma jump. She turned around to see the doctor approaching her. Out of all the doctors at SHIELD, Dr. Laurents was her least favorite. No doubt about it, Dr. Laurents was a damn good doctor. She was just a hard ass, and it made working with her a little difficult. She instantly pasted a pleasant look on her face, masking the unease she felt as Dr. Laurents closed in on her.

"Yes, Dr. Laurents," she said.

"It seems that Tony Stark wants you assigned to Agent Marks," Dr. Laurents said. "Do you have any opposition?"

"None at all," Emma replied.

"I'm pulling you off any other patients," Dr. Laurents said. Emma's grey-green eyes widened as she realized what Dr. Laurents was doing. She opened her mouth to protest, but Dr. Laurents cut her off.

"Before you think I'm punishing you, stop right there. I'm not punishing you. I was in that debriefing, too, and you're going to have a lot on your hands with Captain Rogers. Stark is also demanding, and you're not going to have much time to efficiently take care of the other patients when you're running back and forth between those two. You better take damn good care of them, alright? Tell Coulson what he needs to know," she said firmly. Emma was at a loss for words so instead she just nodded. Dr. Laurents nodded sharply and turned away, leaving the stunned nurse behind her.

Emma watched the doctor leave her behind in her dust. She'd just been pulled off the job. Her only two patients were Steve and Agent Marks. She suddenly was unaware of what to do. Without being conscious of what she was doing, she found herself walking to her locker in the nurses' lounge and then to Steve's room after retrieving what she'd been waiting to present to him.

It was time that Steve got caught up on the world around him, and she knew just how to begin.


	4. Reasons

**Much love to hockeygurl39 and akt15 for reviewing! Please continue to leave reviews and let me know what you think so far of the story! I'm glad y'all liked the bit about the Iron Man gummies. I actually got the idea because I have Iron Man 3 gummies at my house that I love snacking on, and I thought it'd be fun to incorporate them so I'm glad you guys enjoyed it as much as I did heh heh**

**I'm trying to move the relationship along more quickly with Steve and Emma because I don't want this story to be as long as Survival Skills. I'm hoping maybe 15 chapters (AT MOST) and then onto the Avengers sequel that will focus on Tony and Grace! I have to admit, I love writing those two =) Emma will also be in the Avengers sequel, but it won't be a half/half like this one is. It'll be told strictly from Grace and Tony's points of view, and Emma will just be in it, if that makes sense.**

**Again, please let me know your thoughts on everything! I hope you like this chapter =)**

* * *

Chapter 4

Emma stalked into Steve Rogers's room before she could change her mind. She'd been up the whole night before working on what she was about to give to him, and she'd been waiting for the right moment. To her surprise, she felt as she walked through the doorway and into the captain's room. He wasn't in his bed anymore but instead standing with his back to the door by the window staring out over the city, his arms folded across his chest. He hadn't seen her come in, and she paused for a moment to look at him. He looked like the perfect soldier: tall, broad, and strong. Even though his muscles hadn't been put to use for over 80 years, they looked like they hadn't missed a day of exercise. His shoulders were wide, and he narrowed at the waist. Every inch of him was covered in solid muscle.

He had this hard, solid look to him, but his hair was a contrast to that. It was a dark blonde, and Emma imagined that it would feel soft and feathery beneath her fingers. Heat rose to her neck as she realized that she'd been thinking about what it would be like to touch his hair. Had she really been thinking that? No. Of course not. Emma couldn't deny that Captain Steve Rogers was, well, a beautiful man, but she hadn't been thinking about how soft his hair was. Not at all.

"Tired of being cooped up in here?" she said finally. Steve turned around to face her, not having been startled at all by her presence.

"I'm not the kind who enjoys being kept in a small room every day," he replied.

"I understand that. There's so much to see and do that no one ever really enjoys being in the hospital. It's particularly bad with SHIELD agents because they have even more to see and do, and they're always restless," she said. "Have they said anything to you about a release date?"

"No, ma'am," he answered sullenly. "I don't think I'm exactly a patient here because the doctor said I'm in perfect health."

"That's for sure," Emma said a little too quickly, rendering an odd look from Steve. She quickly grinned and mentally slapped herself across the face. "Your readings are excellent on everything."

There, she thought, that was a good cover.

"Honestly, I don't think SHIELD knows what to do with me," Steve said. Emma nodded, unsure of what to say. She had no words of wisdom to offer because she'd never been in a situation quite like Steve's. He'd woken up to everyone he'd known being either dead or too old to actually remember him. She couldn't think of anything to say that could help him get through it.

"Do you like music?" she finally asked. Steve finally smiled a little and nodded.

"I love music, ma'am," he replied. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Enough with the ma'am, remember?" she asked in a teasing voice. He shrugged sheepishly, and a little color came into his face. He looked so young and less serious. It suited him, actually. He deserved to look like a young man in his prime and not so depressed and old. Emma knew that in all actuality, he _was_ an old guy, but he really wasn't. Not in her eyes. To her, he was a young man who had been giving a shitty hand in the game of life. She smiled at her own metaphor, feeling that the corniness of it was appropriate for the situation.

"Well, I have something for you. This is an iPod. It's a portable music player." She walked closer to Steve and held out the small object. He gently took it, again holding it as if it were going to break. As she passed it to him, she noticed how large his hands were compared to her own. His hand lightly brushed against hers, and she held her breath. Quickly, she cleared her throat and looked up at him, her grey-green eyes not betraying anything of what she'd been feeling only seconds before. She smiled.

"This is an old iPod of mine, and I thought maybe you'd like to use it. I've composed a playlist—that's just like, a list of songs that you can listen to—of the top 20 songs from every year since 1942. I also did the top 20 of 1942 in case you missed hearing music you're familiar with," she said. Again, she felt the familiar heat rising to her neck. Why did this only seem to happen around Steve?

"You took the time to do that?" Steve questioned. Emma shrugged, feeling embarrassed.

"It didn't take long," she said. "Listening to music always makes me feel calmer, and I figured that you might enjoy listening to what's changed since you were around. Might make the time pass more quickly."

Steve turned the iPod over in his hands, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he looked at it. He finally looked up at Emma with another tiny smile on his face.

"I don't know how to use it," he said. Emma beamed back at him.

"I can teach you," she said, and she began showing him to use it. Steve was intently listening, but he was also watching her and paying attention to her as she talked. Emma Carroll was the only person who'd taken any time to think about him as if he were a real human being since he'd woken up. Sure, everyone else was friendly. There were a few other nurses who also came in to check his vitals whenever Emma wasn't available to, and they were always friendly, but Emma was different.

As she explained how to use the iPod, a strand of her light hair fell into her face. She casually pushed it back behind her ear and kept talking. She glanced up at him to see if he was following her. Her grey-green eyes had settled on his face, and he realized that he had never seen anyone who looked at him quite the way she did. It was hard for him to identify what exactly the look was, but it was as if she didn't expect anything back from him. She saw him just as he was and didn't expect him to be anything different. He nodded, signifying that he was following what she was saying.

A long, confusing hour later, Captain Steve Rogers was a pro at operating an iPod. That wasn't to say that it had all gone smoothly. There'd been times when he'd wanted to toss it across the room, but it was worth it. He had earphones in as he listened to the top 20 list from 1942. The music was slow, and it was familiar. His chest ached as a deep yearning to be in a time where things made sense settled into his bones. He paused the music and looked at Emma. She was smiling at him with an excited, triumphant look on her face. He couldn't help smiling back.

"This is wonderful," he said, fighting back the overwhelming nostalgia that was growing in his chest. She clasped her hands together excitedly.

"I'm so glad you know how to use it now," she said. "You'll have to tell me what songs you like so I can get a feel for your musical tastes."

"I will. Thank you," he said. As she left the room to go check on another patient, he knew that he'd never been more genuine in showing his appreciation.

* * *

Agent Grace Marks was finally beginning to show some improvement. She was able to speak more than just one word replies, and she was less confused, but her headaches were still pretty strong. But the positive side, Tony kept reminding himself, was she was getting better. She was lying in bed watching the TV in front of her when Tony spoke.

"They found Captain America," he said carefully. He looked at her as her eyes widened in shock, and she stared at him. To anyone, this was huge news. To Grace Marks, this was monumental news. Her father had been heading search expeditions for Captain America ever since she was young.

"Where?" she asked.

"Somewhere in icy bumblefuck," he replied. Grace seemed distracted, and Tony couldn't tell if it were from the concussion or if she were lost in thought about what he'd just said.

"That's plausible," she replied seriously. Tony smothered the smile that threatened to overtake his face. His lovely dark-featured girlfriend was so out of it, and he wasn't sure whether to feel sorry for her or to laugh when she had moments like these.

"Dad?" she asked, suddenly sounding tired. Tony shook his head.

"I haven't seen him. Truth be told, I haven't seen the Ice Man himself yet," he replied. Grace frowned.

"Rude," she murmured. It was clear that she was tired; she always reverted back into one word responses whenever she was beginning to feel run down. She hated how easily she tired out; she was used to being up and around, always diving headfirst into everything around her. Now all she could do was lie in a hospital bed and try to focus on unfogging her brain.

Dr. Laurents had said that Grace had suffered a severe brain injury. Again, Grace was reminded that she should be dead, but the Super Soldier Serum that her father had injected her with when she was little had healed up most of the injury and only left her with a concussion. A really bad concussion, but a really bad concussion was worse than being a vegetable forever, she justified.

Tony was being especially careful around her. He was a thousand times more gentle even just when he held her hand or kissed her cheek. She knew that she had cuts and bruises all over her face because neither he nor the nurses would let her see her reflection. It seemed now, though, the only nurse who ever came in was Nurse Carroll, a young woman with very light brown hair, so light it was almost blonde, and grey-green eyes. Emma Carroll was the opposite of Agent Grace Marks when it came to eyes. Emma's eyes were warm and open, and they showed everything she was thinking and feeling. Grace's eyes were usually blank and expressionless, something that she had learned through SHIELD and her survival instincts, her main skill that had attracted SHIELD.

Eyes were a big thing when it came to Grace. They let her know who was worthy of her time and who wasn't. As soon as she'd opened her eyes on the gurney and seen Emma Carroll's grey-green orbs staring down at her as she tried to get information from the concussed agent, Grace had known that Emma was someone to trust. Tony's eyes were her favorite, though. They were deep and warm and brown. He had an intense stare that struck her heartstrings. Any time she ever got mad at Tony, all she had to do was look at his eyes and fall even more in love with him. And she did it every day.

"You're looking funny. Is my hair ok?" Tony asked. Grace laughed as much as the pain in her head would allow and carefully shook her head.

"Hair's good," she replied.

"Do you need anything?" he asked, concern showing on his beautiful face. She held her hand out.

"Come here," she whispered. He scooted closer towards her, and she put her hand on the side of his face. It always amazed her that this beautiful man next to her was the one she'd fallen in love with, especially considering their crazy story. It'd only taken a week together to fall in love, and here they were a year later. She'd officially moved in with him, and they were stable.

His eyes closed at her touch, and he leaned his head into her hand.

"Captain's here?" she asked softly. Tony opened his eyes. He'd been anticipating this question, and he'd never made up his mind on how he was going to answer it. Grace was going to want to see Captain Rogers, but she was in no shape to, and she wouldn't take no for an answer. However, he knew that if he lied, she'd be able to pick up on it in a heartbeat, and she'd call him out on it.

"Yeah, he's here," he said reluctantly. Her eyes lit up, but he stopped her before she could say anything. "You're not going to see him until you're a little better, ok?"

"No," she replied angrily.

"Grace, you can barely even talk without sounding like an angry two year old. Is that how you want to meet Captain America for the first time?" Tony asked. He instantly knew he'd won when he saw the little unhappy twist of her mouth, signifying she was acknowledging he had a point.

"As soon as I'm better," she said, forcing her words out.

"Huh, look at that," Tony mused. "That's the longest sentence you've spoken since you've been brought in. Captain America's some good incentive."

She lightly slapped his arm.

"No hitting," he droned, and his lips landed lightly on hers.

* * *

Emma was in the nurses' lounge reviewing Agent Grace Marks's chart when a knock on the doorframe made her look up. Since Dr. Laurents had taken her off all her other patients, she'd figured that she might as well more closely familiarize herself with Grace's condition. She rubbed her eyes and blinked as she took in the sight of the young man standing in the doorway.

"Steve?" she asked, her pitch going slightly higher in height as recognition filled her. Steve Rogers was indeed standing in the doorway of the nurses' lounge, a place where he wasn't supposed to be. He looked mildly self-conscious and unsure of what to do with himself. He was so tall that he nearly encompassed the entirety of the doorframe, and he seemed to be hyperaware of how bulky he was compared to it. He took a few steps forward and then one back as if he couldn't decide whether or not it was appropriate for him to enter the nurses' lounge.

"Is it ok…" his voice trailed off. "I got tired of staying in my room," he said bluntly.

Emma hesitated, wondering if she should invite him in. If a doctor found him in there, she could get in a lot of trouble. Then again, she was supposed to be getting him to open up to her, and he'd sought her out, so she would be doing what SHIELD wanted her to do. She nodded and beckoned him in.

"Make yourself at home," she said. "This is where all we nurses come when we're on break."

"Are you on break? I didn't mean to disturb you," he said abruptly, coming to a complete halt as the thought dawned on him. Emma smiled at him and shook her head, again gesturing for him to come in.

"Not at all," she said. "Actually, I've got a lot of free time on my hands. Dr. Laurents pulled me off of all my patients except for you and another agent who's kind of an important part of SHIELD."

Steve frowned as he looked at her, but he didn't say anything. Gingerly, he sat down on the same couch as Emma but on the other end of the couch. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd sought the nurse out. He hadn't been lying when he said that he was tired of staying in his room, but there was something about Emma Carroll that was just so different. She looked at him eagerly, her gaze fixing on him pleasantly and openly. Her grey-green eyes were clear and warm.

"Did you want to talk?" she asked. She looked so eager. Again, Steve couldn't help comparing her with Peggy. Peggy was a real hard ass; she didn't take shit from anyone. The second she walked into a room, she demanded everyone's attention. If she didn't want to hear someone's sob story, she didn't. Men stood at attention whenever her gaze landed on them. And she was beautiful, too; in a well put together way that told everyone that she knew she was beautiful and wasn't afraid of her beauty.

It wasn't like that at all with Emma. People sought Emma out because she was helpful and good at what she did. She probably took more shit than she should, he thought. She was almost _too _nice, but then again, Steve wasn't entirely sure that there were such a thing. She had a nice natural freshness to her face that showed she was confident in how she looked, that she was naturally beautiful. Even as she sat there on a slightly ragged couch in the nurses' lounge in her scrubs and her light hair falling out of her ponytail, Steve found himself noticing that she was beautiful.

"I don't know," he said finally as he collected his thoughts. "I guess I just wanted company. It makes you feel like you're going insane when there are only a few people who come in to see you every few hours."

"I understand exactly," Emma said, and Steve had the feeling that she knew what it was like.

"What happened?" he asked.

"How do you know?" she asked with a wry smile on her face. Steve returned the smile.

"Isn't there a reason you wanted to be a nurse?"

He'd struck the nail on the head, and he knew it by the way her smile dimmed down a little bit. She looked at the file in her hands and gave a short little laugh. She glanced up at him, almost shyly.

"I guess I'm an open book," she said. Steve didn't say anything, opting instead to stay quiet and wait for her to tell him on her own. He'd learned that that was the best way to find out about someone: wait for him or her to come to you.

"It's an unhappy story," she finally said. "Plane crash. Killed both my parents, and I was left alone at 11 years old, so I definitely understand what it's like to, you know, be stuck in a hospital and not have anyone."

"I'm sorry," Steve said quietly. Emma nodded; she was used to the response, but she could see that Steve meant it sincerely. He wasn't saying it just because it was the right thing to do. He was saying it because he was genuinely sorry.

"Me too," she replied. "Anyway, enough about me. Why bother dwelling on things you can't change, right? You can only change what happens to you in the future."

"I wish that were true," Steve remarked in a bitter tone. "For me, this _is _the future."

Emma winced. "God, I'm sorry. I keep saying insensitive things to you."

"No. You're real, at least. You're not treating me like I'm going to fall apart," Steve answered.

"That's because you're not," she answered simply, and again, Steve was struck with the awareness that Nurse Emma Carroll knew far more about him than he had ever known about himself. Her sea-colored eyes could see into him, and he suddenly felt strangely vulnerable. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to cover himself up and hide from her or stay still and let her continue to see him.

Thankfully, he didn't have to decide.

"Emma, we need you. Agent Marks is seizing!" Felicia shouted as she quickly appeared and then disappeared from the nurses' lounge.

"Steve, I'm sorry," Emma quickly apologized. He held up his hands, signifying that there were no hard feelings, and he watched her run out the door. He sat still on the couch for a length of time that he couldn't measure. Was he there for two minutes, an hour, half an hour? He didn't know.

All he knew was that Emma Carroll was doing more than helping people; she was saving lives.

He wondered if she could save his.


	5. Face to Face

**So many lovely reviewers! Sending love to Silently Tearful, akt15, Vanillamarilla, BlackHeartsandChaos, Avengerlicious, and Silent's Screams! Yay, thank you for all the lovely reviews!**

**akt15: Your kind words mean the world to me! It means a lot to know that someone likes this story as much as I like writing it. I'm planning on making the Iron Man 3 story long heh heh I'm also planning the Avengers sequel to be at least as long as Survival Skills. It'll probably be longer than SS, though, because there's so much more action going on in that movie! I'm really looking forward to writing the Iron Man 3 one since I'll have a lot of creative license with that. As we all can tell (at least I hope) Grace would not be captured as easily as Pepper was because she would go into survival mode long beforehand! I'm already trying to plan out how I want to handle that haha again thank you so much for all the really lovely things you've said. Your reviews are the absolute sweetest!**

**Vanillamarilla: Thank you so much! I wasn't sure if Steve and Emma were moving too slowly, so it was reassuring to get your review saying that you liked the pace they're at. I'm trying to up the pace a little bit since I'd like to get this story wrapped up in 10 more chapters. (Yeah, I have a feeling that's not going to happen, but I'm trying! Haha!) Thank you for letting me know your thoughts on that! And yes, Grace and Tony were the basis for my story Survival Skills. I can see how it'd be confusing if you hadn't read that one first! =)**

**Thank you again for the support. Here's the latest chapter. I hope you enjoy =)**

* * *

Chapter 5

Grace Marks loved her boyfriend to the ends of the Earth and back, but Jesus Christ, enough was enough. Sure, she'd had a setback earlier when she'd had a seizure, but he was like a mother hen, making sure she didn't do anything too strenuous. If anything, the seizure had done her some good because more of her verbal skills were back. She could speak in complete sentences usually, and her headache was starting to let up a little bit. She was on new meds—apparently that had been the case of the seizure, fucking incompetent SHIELD hospital as fucking always—and she had a fucking awful headache, and Tony wasn't shutting the fuck up. In fact, Tony was fighting with Dr. Laurents.

"—had been doing your job right, she wouldn't have had a motherfucking seizure, ok? You can expect lawsuits, and you can bet your ass that I will do everything I can to make sure that you never practice medicine again," Tony snapped.

"Sir, we had no idea that she would react so badly to the medication," Dr. Laurents said, attempting to keep a calm face, but it was clear that she was panicking.

"I don't give a fuck about that. I give a fuck about the fact that you almost killed her. Is it not enough that SHIELD basically kills her every time she goes on a mission? Now you have to kill her when she's trying to heal? Come on."

"Tony, stop," Grace said slowly with meaning.

"Honey, you almost died," he said, running his hand through his hair in frustration. He looked exhausted. Dark circles were under his eyes, and he looked so much older than he really was. The added stress of her recent seizure had only added to how exhausted he was. All she really wanted at this point was for him to sleep.

"I'm ok," she replied. "Dr. Laurents, accidents happen."

Tony opened his mouth, but Grace interrupted him.

"Drop it."

Dr. Laurents curtly nodded and exited the room before Tony could decide that he really did want to pursue the issue. Grace knew exactly why he was being like this; he felt helpless. He felt helpless because he couldn't fix her. It was the same sort of situation that they'd been in last year when he'd been fighting the palladium poisoning. He hadn't been able to save himself all entirely on his own, and now he couldn't make her better. Grace noticed the irony of the fact that Tony would never allow himself to go to a hospital as long as he was still alive and kicking, but Grace got a paper cut? Hospital. No questions asked.

She'd been hospitalized since she'd started dating Tony. She hadn't been on that many missions, but she'd ended up at the SHIELD hospital twice before now due to a broken bone that healed in record time or a mild concussion where she was released shortly after being brought in. Both times, though, Tony had caused a scene, demanding the best care for her, and both times Tony had been kicked out of the room.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I overreacted."

"I know," she replied understandingly. "I know, baby."

Tony's shoulders sagged as the weight of his emotions drained off of him. He crossed to the bottom of her hospital bed and sat down. He sighed.

"You know, I always hated being called baby," he mused, more to himself than to Grace.

"Too bad, hotshot," she replied as she nudged him with her foot.

"Hey, you didn't let me finish. Interrupting. Rude," Tony said with a serious but playful look on his face.

"Sorry. Swollen brain and seizure fever," Grace responded innocently with a grin.

"Is everything a joke to you?" he asked.

"Only funny things are."

"Huh. Good one," he said. "_Anyway_, as I was saying before you so inconsiderately cut me off, I always hated being called baby until you started calling me that. See? You ruined a sweet moment."

"What changed?" Grace asked. He smiled at her, his brown eyes extra warm and intense.

"The woman who was saying it."

* * *

Grace knew that Tony was going to kill her. Not in the literal sense, of course. He'd never lay a finger on her if it thought it would make her unhappy in the slightest form possible. He was just going to be really, really, really, really mad at her. But she had to do it anyway.

"Could you get my MIT sweatshirt?" she asked him. He frowned at her.

"That's at the tower," he said, referring to the glorious tower he'd been building in New York. "Technically, it's _my _sweatshirt."

"I'm cold," Grace protested. She knew that Tony would buy it. She was always complaining about being cold, so there wasn't anything that would give him reason to be suspicious. She kept her face still and innocent. The resolve in his face was starting to soften, and she knew that she'd got him.

"You know the tower's a bit far," he said. She nodded. "I can buy you a sweatshirt down in the shop."

"I want _my _sweatshirt," she said, stressing the my. Tony rolled his eyes.

"I always give in to you. Fine. You know I'm not happy about leaving you here, right?" he asked.

"I'll be fine."

"If you're not fine when I come back, I'm punishing you."

"Ok, Dad."

"Hmmm say that again. Actually, wait, don't. Too creepy. Bye, honey. I'll be back." Tony kissed her gently and then whisked out of the room, determined to bring back the sweatshirt that Grace had asked him for. Truth be told, she wouldn't mind the sweatshirt because she loved it. As much as she hated to admit it, she was the stereotypical girlfriend who loved wearing her boyfriend's clothes. She just couldn't help it! Tony's clothes, particularly his older, worn clothes from his MIT days, were so comfortable, and they smelled just like him. However, wanting his sweatshirt was not the reason why she'd asked him to leave.

She buzzed for the nurse on the button beside her bed. Within 15 seconds, Emma Carroll swiftly walked into the room wearing her typical smile and hair back in a ponytail with a few strands swinging loose.

"Agent Marks, can I get you anything?" she asked.

"I want to talk to Captain Rogers," Grace replied. Emma's face instantly showed a change. Grace was fantastic at reading people, and she picked up on Emma's hesitation in a heartbeat. The nurse didn't know what in the world the agent would want with Steve, but she sure didn't want to deny the amber-eyed woman's request. Ever since Agent Marks had arrived at the SHIELD hospital, everyone had been whispering about her.

"It's important," Grace added with a blank face.

"He wandered into your room when I was gone, ok?" Emma asked quietly. A smile spread across Grace's face, and she was taken aback by how even more beautiful the agent was when she smiled.

"Perfect," she replied. As Emma left to go down the hall and fetch Steve, she realized that that was the first real time that she'd seen Grace Marks smile. Grace had to have been the strangest SHIELD agent that Emma had ever come across. Grace always had a blank expression on her face, and it took Emma off guard. She didn't know how someone could look so expressionless all the time; it didn't seem natural. Add that to Grace Marks's even stranger eyes, and it was as if Grace Marks weren't even a real human being.

"Hey," Emma said as she stood in front of Steve's room. He'd wandered back in there after she'd left him in the nurses' lounge when Grace had had her seizure. This time, however, he was seated on his bed with the iPod in his ears. He appeared to be enjoying whatever it was that he was listening to because his eyes were closed, and he had a small on his face. Emma crossed to him and laid a hand on his arm. Instantly, he jumped at her touch, and his eyes popped open, a shocking blue that met Emma's sea-colored eyes. Her hand was warm against his skin. He noticed how her hand seemed to settle onto him as if it belonged there.

"I didn't mean to startle you," she said with a grin.

"I was, uh, enjoying this," he said sheepishly as he paused the iPod. "I have to say. This is the best gift that anyone's ever given me."

"You're welcome," Emma said, her voice quiet and gentle in his ears. "Hey, someone asked to see you. If anyone asks, I never took you to this room."

He frowned, his blue eyes clouding with confusion.

"Someone wants to see me?" he asked. She shrugged.

"I don't know much more than that. Come on."

She led him down the hall to the agent's room. Grace was lying in her bed, but she'd changed the angle so that she was propped up more. Her strange eyes followed Steve as he walked into the room. He wasn't sure what he was doing there; he didn't recognize the woman in front of him, and he could tell that he was under her scrutiny.

"Hello, Captain," she said quietly. "I'm Agent Grace Marks. If I'm a little out of it, my brain's trying to recover from being shoved against my skull so." She offered up a wry smile and shrug.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am. Captain Steve Rogers," he replied. Emma could detect the formal tone that had crept back into his voice. She wondered if he even realized that he was doing it. Formality was so much a part of his life and had been, being a military man and all that, that it was probably second nature to him.

"My father is Dr. Andrew Marks," Grace said in that quiet, even tone. Recognition sparked in Steve's eyes.

"Your father…" his voice trailed off as he realized what Grace was saying.

"He's looked for you my whole life," she said. "He probably doesn't know what to do now."

"Ma'am," Steve said gently, "your father was killed shortly after I was found."

Grace's face didn't change a millimeter.

"Was he?" she asked with that same look on her face.

"Yes, ma'am. I was unaware of it until after I'd woken up here in the hospital, myself. I was told that it was a transportation accident."

"Captain, I'm here because of you," the agent said, completely changing the subject. Steve was taken off guard by the woman in front of him. She was showing very little feeling on her face, but he could see that she was curious about him. He was also very confused by what she meant. He frowned at her.

"Ma'am?" he asked.

"My dad made his own Super Soldier Serum and injected me when I was little," she said by way of explanation. "It's saved me."

"He made his own serum?" Steve repeated in disbelief. "How?"

Grace shrugged.

"He was a genius. Anyway, I just wanted to…to thank you," she said. The questioning look in her eyes showed that she wasn't quite saying all that she wanted to, but Steve didn't stop her. Instead, he nodded.

"Ma'am, I didn't do anything," he said. She finally cracked a smile, the light of it making her look years younger.

"You have," she said. "You just don't know yet."

"Yes, ma'am," Steve responded quietly. Grace nodded in response. Emma took that as her cue, and she led Steve back to his room. The young man had a deep frown on his face as he slowly walked down the hall.

"Are you ok?" Emma asked him.

"I'm fine. I'm just thinking about that agent. Her father injected her with serum that was similar to mine when she was only a little girl. The pain that I felt when I received it…and I was an adult…how could anyone do that?" he murmured, more to himself than to Emma. Emma swallowed hard as she realized the implications of what Steve was saying.

"Doesn't surprise me that she didn't seem all that upset when you told her he was dead," she said.

"Here I've been wanting to meet the guy to thank him, hit him, I don't know. Wanting to talk to him, at least, and he put a little girl through that. How could anyone do that?" he repeated. Emma followed him into his room. He sat on the edge of his bed, and she stood close to him. Her knees were only five inches away from his. This was the closest she'd ever been to him since he'd woken up.

She stood with her arms folded across her chest and pushed another strand of her hair out of her face. Her hair was always coming out of its ponytail; it was at that awkward length where it just didn't' want to stay back no matter how much she pinned it and sprayed it back. Her stomach had an odd butterfly feeling deep down, and she tried to fight it down. She swallowed hard and looked at the man in front of her.

He had his head down, his gaze fixed on something on the floor. The top of his head was in plain view, and she really got a nice view of his thick hair. Without thinking, she gently brushed a hand through it. Instantly, she processed what she'd done, and she stepped back as Steve's head came up in shock. Their eyes met, and Emma felt that heat of embarrassment rise to her neck.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I just—your hair looked soft," she blurted out. To her chagrin, Steve smiled at her. It was a warm smile that only made her cheeks burn hotter. She wasn't sure if he were amused by her or if he were being polite, but she could tell that he was studying her. It even seemed as though his cheeks had an extra bit of color to them.

"It's ok," he said quietly with that same smile spread across his face. Emma shrugged, feeling the embarrassment course through her blood. She took a step back, awkwardly smiling.

"I have to go," she said. "It's reaching the end of my shift anyway." She took another tiny step back, and it was at that moment that a strand of hair decided to come loose. She went to tuck it back behind her ear, but suddenly her hand collided with Steve's. She froze as he finished the motion for her. His skin brushed against her cheek as he took his hand away. With wide eyes, she stared at him, and he had an unreadable smile playing across his mouth. _No_, she thought, _no, Emma, you're not going to notice his mouth_. The color was still present in his cheeks.

"Good night," he said. She made an unidentifiable gesture and sound and quickly hurried out of the room. She hurried to the lounge where she changed out of her scrubs and into her street clothes, and she grabbed her bag and began walking down the stairs so she could go home and rest. She was feeling so many things all at once, and she couldn't pinpoint a single thing that signaled what she was feeling the most. It was like she felt so many emotions that she felt nothing.

Well, she felt one thing that she knew for sure, but what she felt wasn't an emotion.

As she walked home, she replayed the memory of what it felt like to have Steve's hand brushing her cheek.


	6. Safari

**The usual shoutouts to Avengerlicious and Vanillamarilla for the reviews! Keep reviewing, y'all! I love hearing what you have to say, your criticisms, your suggestions, what you like, what you don't, etc.**

**This chapter is the moment we've all been waiting for, if you know what I mean ;) I hope y'all like the background information that I added on Grace. Let me know what you think of that in particular. And of course, I want feedback on that moment I'm talking about heh heh**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 6

Emma went into work the next morning feeling jumpy and strange. Every little thing startled her, and she was feeling extremely frazzled. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she was feeling this way because of what had happened the night before with Steve. It was fair to admit that she was attracted to him. She could do that. She could sit there and honestly say to herself that she was attracted to him. _Very _attracted to him. Last night had been something completely unexpected. Steve wasn't the touchy type; he didn't make any moves to touch other people, instead making sure that his hands were firmly by his sides, but he had touched _her_. He had made the move. He had gone out of his way to reach out and touch _her_. Bubbles filled her stomach as she replayed the moment again in her mind.

"Cut it out, Emma. This isn't high school," she murmured to herself as she finished changing into her scrubs. Truthfully, she probably didn't even need to wear her scrubs. It wasn't as if she would be doing anything to get them dirty. Grace Marks and Steve Rogers were two patients who wouldn't be giving her much to worry about in the cleaniness department. Emma changed into them anyway, more out of habit than anything else.

After a quick check in with Agent Marks who was still sound asleep, Emma went back to the nurses lounge. Grabbing the bag that she'd brought with her, she went to the snack room and got two spoons and two cups of cherry Jello. Nervousness spiked throughout her entire body as she walked towards Steve's room. She could even hear her heart marching in her ears, keeping time with her footsteps.

When she reached Captain Rogers's room, she was greeted by the surprise of her life.

He was still sleeping. A smile flashed onto Emma's face before she could stop it. He was under the blankets of his hospital bed, turned on his side facing her. He was breathing deeply and evenly, his sides rising and falling with each breath. The funniest part was that someone had obviously given him the shirt he was wearing as a night shirt because it was a too big black shirt with the SHIELD emblem on it. He looked funny in the loose-fitting SHIELD t-shirt, but Emma thought it was a good funny. She was even willing to admit that he looked adorable. Yeah, there was no other description for him with his hair tousled like that, and his face in a small frown, as if he were concentrating on sleeping.

She sat down in the chair by his bed. She might as well, she figured. Quietly, she set the two Jellos and spoons on the food tray by the bed, and she reached into her bag and pulled out a book to read until he woke up. She doubted that Captain Rogers had had many people sitting by his bedside waiting for him to wake up, and she decided that she'd gladly take the spot as the first one.

* * *

Grace was glad that she'd had Tony go get the sweatshirt, even if she'd sent him under false pretenses. She had it on over her hospital gown, and she did feel significantly warmer. She was also feeling significantly better. The doctor had even come in and said that she should be free to go tomorrow morning, something that Grace was thrilled to hear. She didn't _hate _being in the hospital, but she was ready to go home. The bad news, however, was that she was out of action for a good month. She knew she only had the Serum to thank because it made her heal far quicker than she would have without it. She could already tell that the cuts and bruises on her face were gone, and she wouldn't have any scars left.

She had been sincere in her gratitude to Steve Rogers last night, much to his confusion. She hadn't been lying when she said that the Serum had saved her because it had. The Serum had been what had heightened her initial survival skills, and as a result, it had saved her. If it hadn't been for the Serum, she never would've survived the jump from the window during the shooting. Hell, she never would've even survived the shooting, let alone her time in captivity in South America.

Overall, Grace knew that the Serum had been a good thing for her. She should've thanked her father for injecting her with it, but she didn't feel thankful at all to him. If anyone wondered why she felt no remorse at the death of her father, that person clearly didn't know her history.

Truth be told, Grace had been born as a science experiment. Her mother Dr. Sarah Lowell had been a biochemist who had teamed up with archaeologist Dr. Andrew Marks, and they'd fallen in love through their mutual curiosity about the Serum. A year after they'd been married, Grace was born, and they had their own private little test subject. For the most part, Grace had had a normal childhood. She'd had toys, gone to preschool, and socialized with her little preschool friends. Sometimes she just had to let her parents inject her with fluids that she didn't understand.

Andrew and Sarah were never loving parents. She couldn't remember a time when either of them had ever hugged her or told her they loved her. They'd made sure that she was comfortable and ok, but they'd never made sure she knew they loved her. In all honesty, she wasn't sure that they had, but it didn't matter to her now. What had happened had happened.

She'd been four years old when her parents had completed the Serum and injected her. Thankfully, she didn't remember the exact details of the day that she'd been injected. Unfortunately, however, she remembered every little detail about the pain. She didn't think about it much, only whenever she thought about her parents. That moment was the moment when she had realized that she wanted nothing more to do with them, and she'd shut down on them at four years old.

Grace pulled her hands inside the long sleeves of Tony's hoodie and put them up to her face. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath in, taking in the smell of him and being comforted by it. He was still dozing in the chair next to her, much to Grace's relief. He'd been running himself ragged for the past few days, and he deserved sleep. The bags under his eyes were getting ridiculous, causing Grace to feel guilty for having made him worry about her so much. Technically, her injury wasn't her fault, but on the other hand, it was. She should've been more careful.

It'd been exactly what it was: an accident. She'd taken out the target, and she'd taken a few moments to let her nerves cool down, to let her survival instincts abate before she and Natasha contacted someone to come take care of the aftermath. She'd been sitting on the edge of the roof leaning against a pipe railing when the railing had come loose, and she'd gone sailing over the edge. Nonetheless, she felt guilty for having given Tony cause to worry about her. She was the last person he needed to worry about; she was always going to be ok because she couldn't die. At least, not that she knew of. Tony was afraid of her dying, and she was afraid of the fact that she couldn't.

It was as if Tony knew she wanted him to keep sleeping because he slowly opened his eyes. His gaze was unfocused as he rubbed them with the back of his hand. He yawned and grimaced.

"Oh, God, I need to brush my teeth," he mumbled. He glanced up at Grace. "Do I look sexy and sleepy?"

Grace rolled her eyes.

"You're so full of yourself," she replied, but she was smiling.

"No, I'm just brutally honest," he retorted. "Are you ok? Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm fine," she answered. "Just ready to get out of here."

"Yeah, I'm sick of all these fucking SHIELD monkeys."

"Hey! I'm a SHIELD monkey," she protested playfully.

"Yeah, but you're the best one of the lot. I guess that's not saying much, though." He was answered with a playful swat across the head. "Damn, I'd say you're feeling a lot better."

"Told you I wasn't going to die," she said.

"Yeah, well, babe, you scare me when you have to go on these missions. You should quit," Tony suggested casually. Grace laughed and shook her head; he knew that she'd never quit, and she knew that he knew that. He just loved to suggest it to her in hopes that she would.

"I have nine lives. I think I'm doing ok," she said.

"You're not a cat," Tony said as his face twisted into a grimace.

"What's wrong with cats?"

"Cats are not to be trusted."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Um, honey? No one with a brain trusts a cat."

"I love cats."

"Jesus, you're killing me. Look, cats are creepy. They have fur, and they have those whiskers, and their tails just hit you in the face for no reason. Cats are not to be trusted," he repeated adamantly. "When we get home, and you're in the clear, we're christening the lab."

Grace's eyes nearly popped out of her head at his abrupt subject change, particularly about the subject.

"Tony!" she gasped. He widened his eyes innocently.

"What?" he asked. "Come on, before you start scolding me, are you saying that you haven't been—"

"We've already christened the lab," Grace interrupted with a smirk. Tony's eyebrows shot up into his hairline as the surprise of her response struck him. He'd been expecting a reprimand, but she wasn't scolding him for his horny ways.

"We can _re_christen it," he said hopefully.

"The only way to get you going is to get you in the lab," she said in a teasing voice.

"Hey. Not true. I'll fight you on that," Tony protested. "You know I can get it going in no time at all. Anywhere, anytime, anyhow."

"Told you you're full of yourself," Grace responded with that same easy smirk. Tony paused and appeared to be thinking.

"We can also rechristen the shower," he said thoughtfully. "While we're at it, we might as well rechristen the whole house."

"Or we can christen a new place," Grace said innocently. He looked at her curiously.

"I thought we'd hit everywhere," he said quietly, almost sounding worried as if he'd forgotten something very important that he shouldn't have. He paused. "Pun intended."

"The black Audi?" Grace casually reminded him. Tony's eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"Oh. Good idea. Good plan, Agent," he said.

"That's what I thought, Mr. Stark," Grace replied. He leaned in for a kiss, and Grace shook her head. "Teeth first."

"What? Seriously?"

"You said you needed to brush your teeth. I'm not kissing you until you brush your teeth."

Tony ran his tongue over his mouth and paused, assessing the situation. Finally, he nodded.

"Hmmm. Another good plan, Agent," he said. He stood up to go to the bathroom, but lightning quick, he ducked back down to Grace and quickly planted a kiss on her mouth. He walked off to the bathroom smirking at the sounds of Grace's protest behind him.

* * *

Steve blearily opened his eyes, blinking several times and rubbing them to become adjusted to the few beams of sunlight streaming into his room. A shape shifted to his left, and his attention was drawn to it. His gaze landed on Emma Carroll, her legs tucked underneath her as she was reading a book, oblivious to the fact that he was awake. He felt mildly embarrassed that she'd been present while he was unconscious, though he supposed that that was a silly reason to be embarrassed. After all, she _had_ been his nurse for the past month while he'd been unconscious. She'd probably seen him in all kinds of vulnerable states. He swallowed as he thought about it, yet again embarrassed.

He'd been trying not to focus on the past. God, he'd been trying, but he was always confused about everything around him. The only things that really made sense were the TV, the iPod, and Emma. Emma made sense to him. She was a breath of fresh air in the dull SHIELD hospital with her light colored hair and stormy sea-filled eyes.

His awakening seemed to have stirred something in the air because she chose that moment to look over at him. He was greeted by her signature wide smile, and it cleared his brain of all the foggy thoughts that accompanied waking up in the morning.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully but quietly. He self-consciously propped himself in his hospital bed and shifted so that she couldn't see the color appearing in his face.

"Good morning," he said. "How long have you been there?"

"Not long," she said. "I brought you cherry Jello. I noticed you ate it last time."

She held out the Jello to him, and he took it from her. He opened it and took a bite, savoring the taste in his mouth. In 1942, Jello hadn't been this good. Jello had been a very rare luxury that he'd had maybe once or twice in his life. In fact, the first time that Emma had brought it to him, he'd been reluctant to take it because he knew how hard it was to obtain. It'd taken him a day to realize that this was 2011; everything was plentiful in 2011. Except maybe world peace. Yeah, world peace wasn't exactly plentiful in 2011. At least, it didn't seem that way after all the news he'd been watching.

"Eat up, Captain. You're getting another technology lesson today," Emma said with a wink. Steve's eyes widened. The iPod had taken him an hour to learn. What else did she have up her sleeve? She laughed as she saw his expression.

"I promise. It won't be that scary," she said. "Besides, it's something you need to learn anyway. It's really useful."

"What is it?" he asked cautiously.

"Computer. Laptop, more specifically," she said casually. His blue eyes grew even larger.

"That sounds hard," he said. She shook her head.

"It's not. Come on! Eat up and get looking sharp," she urged. Despite the anxiety he felt at learning how to use more technology, Steve gulped down the rest of his delicious cherry Jello and headed to the shower room that was connected to his hospital room. Emma was continuing to read her book and was slowly munching on her Jello.

* * *

"Safari? Why don't they just call it…Internet? Is that what it's called again? Internet?" Steve asked as he refreshed the browser.

"Yes, it's called Internet. They call it Safari because it's more creative," Emma explained calmly.

"Creative," Steve repeated blankly.

"Yes, creative."

"It'd be easier if it were called what it is."

"Well, aren't you grumpy. Think about it like this: you're going on a safari for information every time you open the internet," Emma said, continuing to keep her voice calm. Steve frowned but didn't say anything. He was hyperaware of how close Emma was to him. He was sitting on his hospital bed towards the head of the bed, facing the window, and she was sitting on the lower part of the bed facing the same direction. She was sitting with her legs in a criss-cross, and she was leaning her elbows on her knees as she peered over his shoulder, watching what he did.

Her knee was only a few inches from his. Seeing how close she was to him reminded him of last night. Those strands of hair were always flying loose, and he hadn't been able to help himself when he saw it spring free again. He'd had to tuck it back. He'd touched her. He'd made the first move to touch her, and she hadn't freaked out. Now, he was close enough where he could smell the clean hospital soap on her and even a tiny hint of the shampoo she used. He was staring at her, watching her blink her long eyelashes as she pointed to something on the screen. Suddenly, she glanced up at him.

"Are you listening?" she asked. Steve felt color rush to his face.

"Um, no?" he said, his voice coming out as more of a question than a statement. Emma's grey-green eyes locked onto his, and she had an odd expression on her face that he couldn't quite identify. He was so close to her that he could see she didn't have a single freckle on her face; he could see that her eyes looked more green in some lights and more grey in others; he could see the individual pieces of hair that formed the strands that so faithfully fell forward. He could especially see her mouth, the way her full lips met together, and he couldn't help wondering what it would be like to kiss her.

"Are you ok?" she asked, a concerned frown seeping onto her face.

"I don't know," he murmured back to her. Her frown deepened.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Well, aside from the whole time travelish thing."

She gave him a small grin, and he returned it. He cleared his throat, and before he could take it back, he spoke.

"I was wondering what it'd be like to kiss you," he said. Emma froze. Immediately, Steve knew that he'd crossed the line, and he wished that he could take it back. Her eyes were locked on him. He opened his mouth to say something, but she interrupted him.

"Do you want to?" she whispered.

Steve smiled at her before he could stop himself.

"Yeah," he said. "Is that ok?"

And then she nodded.

Steve leaned forward, and he gently pressed his mouth to hers. His eyes were closed as he tasted the warmth of her against him. She was still as she kissed him back, but he could feel her smiling into the kiss. As he pulled back and looked at her, that was the moment when he realized the true difference between Emma and Peggy. Peggy had been a mystery. Emma was the answer to every question he'd ever wanted to know.


	7. Confrontations

**Shoutouts to Ali, Avengerlicious, akt15, and Vanillamarilla!**

**I'm loving the honest reviews I'm getting from y'all. They're more helpful than I think you guys realize so please KEEP THEM COMING. I want to make you guys happy with where the story's going, and your feedback is so wonderful!**

**This chapter was a long one, so I hope y'all enjoy! Let me know! Happy Fourth (technically, it's now the fifth, but whatever heh heh)! =)**

* * *

Chapter 7

Emma knew that people weren't supposed to live if their hearts had stopped beating, but somehow she had seemed to break the laws of physics because it sure as hell felt like her heart hadn't moved in a good solid minute. She and Steve were staring at each other with shy wide eyes. In a way, she felt as if she were back in high school again.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi," he whispered back with a smile. They were silent as they sat there staring and grinning like idiots. "I haven't done this in a while."

His voice was apologetic, and Emma instantly reached out and touched his face. He tensed beneath her touch, and she almost pulled back, but then he closed his eyes and relaxed against her hand. Her mind was racing. She wasn't in control of her own brain. If she were in control of herself, she wouldn't be doing this. That wasn't to say that she wasn't attracted to Steve, because God, she was attracted to Steve, but she had never felt so drawn to anyone before. Even though she hadn't known him very long at all, it felt right. She felt like she was where she was supposed to be: right next to him.

"I usually don't kiss patients," she whispered to him as if she were sharing a top secret piece of information with him. He smiled beneath her hand, the muscles of his mouth nudging her hand slightly back towards his hairline. She smoothed down the side of his hair; it felt just as she had imagined, light and feathery.

"I've never kissed a nurse," he replied.

"Would you like to again?" Emma asked. She was answered by Steve's mouth on hers again. His large hands were gentle as they took hold of each side of her face, holding her still. She put her hands on top of his as she deepened the kiss, reveling in the feeling of kissing him. Again, her heart stopped beating. She briefly wondered if she could win some kind of superhuman award for still remaining alive after her heart had stopped beating in her body. Did they even make awards like that?

"Oh, shit," a voice from the doorway caught the two of them off guard, and they jumped, startled by the sudden voice. Emma frantically looked at the door, her eyes wide, and she saw Felicia standing there frozen, looking like a deer in headlights.

"Em, I'm sorry," Felicia said quietly. "Oh, shit."

"No, no, it's fine," Emma replied, her cheeks turning red as she smoothed her hair down, making sure everything was in place.

"You know I wouldn't have interrupted you, but someone's here to see you," Felicia said. It was clear by the tone of her voice that she didn't want to specify who was there with Steve present. Emma was confused, but she nodded.

"Ok. Ok. Um, Steve, I'll…I'll see you later, ok?" she said. Steve's face was bright red as well as he nodded and mumbled a quick goodbye. Emma felt herself beginning to sweat as she always did whenever she got nervous. She couldn't think of anyone who was there to see her. Besides, Felicia had walked in on something that Emma wasn't sure she wanted her friend to see. She wasn't sure how she could explain it to Felicia when she couldn't even explain it to herself.

She joined Felicia, and they started walking down the hall. She prayed that Felicia wouldn't say anything, but her prayers went unanswered.

"Oh, my God, Em!" Felicia whisper-hissed to her. "When were you going to tell me that you and Captain Hottie had something going on?"

"He's my patient," Emma said carefully, avoiding eye contact and hoping that she looked as innocent as a newborn baby.

"Bullshit, Emma, you know you're not telling me something," Felicia said and nudged Emma sharply with her elbow. "What's going on?"

"It's…I don't know. I wish I could tell you, but I don't know," Emma said slowly as she let out the slow breath that she'd been holding for God knew how long. Her mind was starting to come together as she walked down the hall to wherever Felicia was taking her to meet her visitor. Honestly, what _was _going on with her and Steve? They weren't exactly _together_. He was her patient. He was being held there in the SHIELD hospital because SHIELD wasn't exactly sure what to do with him, seeing as he wasn't an employee, but he also wasn't a patient. He had nowhere to go.

The thought briefly crossed her mind that he was latching onto her because she was the main person he got to interact with every day. He didn't have anyone in the world for him; it would make sense that he would try to form a connection with someone, particularly someone who was in a leadership position like Emma was. She pushed the thought out of her head. Steve was more grounded than that. God, who was she kidding? She hadn't even known him that long, and there she was trying to act like she knew his personality.

"Well, what I saw was hot," Felicia said diplomatically. Emma rolled her eyes but cracked a smile.

"Of course you'd think it's hot. You think _he's _hot," she said.

"Besides, the rule is that agents are off-limits. He's not an agent. You're not exactly breaking a rule," Felicia replied with a shrug. They walked up to the conference room that Emma had sat in only several days before when she'd had her debriefing with SHIELD. "Hey, there's your visitor. I'll catch up with you later, ok? We're not done."

Emma smiled at Felicia as the blonde nurse ran off. She turned her attention back to Agent Coulson, who was seated inside the conference room. He beckoned to her to come in. She walked in and breezily stuck out her hand to him.

"Agent Coulson, we meet again," she said.

"Yeah, I'm going to be around a lot more than I thought," he responded, shaking her hand. "Please, sit down. How are things? Is everything going ok?"

"Yeah, everything's been going pretty slowly, actually. I was assigned to your friend Agent Marks in addition to Steve. They pulled me off my other patients," she said blandly.

Coulson rolled his eyes, looking mildly irritated.

"Has Tony been pitching a fit?" he asked. Emma frowned and shook her head.

"No, he's been pretty calm. Agent Marks is healing rather quickly, much more quickly than anyone else would be. The severity of her concussion should've left her incapacitated for five months, and she's already on the mend. Dr. Laurents only placed her on medical leave just to be safe," she said. Coulson looked surprised.

"Wow. This is the first time that Tony hasn't caused drama over her being brought in. Ironic, considering that this is the worst she's been injured," he said with a shrug.

"What's their story?" Emma asked. "They seem so…"

"Together?" Coulson finished. Emma smiled wryly and nodded.

"It's actually an interesting story. About a year ago, Tony was dying of palladium poisoning, and Grace was assigned to monitor him and make sure he didn't do anything that would kill him. Somehow, they wound up falling in love, and they've been inseparable since. Well, whenever either of them goes on a mission they obviously have to separate, but you know what I mean," Coulson finished mildly. "They're good for each other. Both have had a rough hand in the world, and they bring out the best in each other."

"He clearly loves her," Emma said thoughtfully, remembering how he had burst into the emergency room and how his presence had been the only thing that had calmed Grace.

"He loves her almost as much as he loves himself, and that's saying something. Why'd you ask?"

"I was just curious. How exactly is Captain Rogers connected with Agent Marks?" she asked. Coulson frowned.

"How'd you hear anything like that?" he asked.

"Last night Agent Marks asked me to speak with him, and from what I was able to gather, her father somehow—"

"You let them talk to each other?" Coulson interrupted. Emma felt panic rise in the back of her throat, suddenly afraid that she'd done something that she wasn't supposed to. Slowly, she nodded.

"Yes, I did," she said. "Agent Marks said that it was important. Was that bad?"

"No," Coulson said calmly. "I wasn't expecting it. What happened in the meeting?"

"Not much. She said that a serum had saved her life because of Captain Rogers, apparently her dad knew him?" Emma said with a shrug.

"Her dad was the archaeologist who found Captain Rogers. Unfortunately, he died in a transportation accident shortly after he found the Captain."

"Yes, Captain Rogers told Agent Marks about that."

"Dammit," Coulson swore. "What else happened?"

"Really, that was about it," Emma said. A strange feeling in her solar plexus told her that there was more going on than what Coulson was telling her. Something was happening, and she had no idea what it was.

"Has he been telling you anything about how he's feeling?" Coulson asked. Emma hesitated, but she shook her head.

"Not really," she said. "I taught him to use an iPod, and I was in the middle of teaching him how to use a laptop earlier."

"Huh," Coulson said, sounding pleasantly surprised. "How's he catching on?"

"Slowly, but he's getting it. He's smart."

"Well. That was just about all I needed to know from you. Hey, here's my number in case anything happens, ok? If Captain Rogers and Grace speak again, or if he tells you anything about what he thinks of all this, any memories from the past, call it, ok?" He handed her a business card, and she took it, carefully pocketing it away.

"I will. It was nice seeing you again, Agent."

"You, too, Emma. Take care." And with that, he was gone.

"What was that about?" a voice from off to her right said. She jumped and turned, her eyes identifying the speaker as Tony Stark, who was standing at the vending machine with a curious expression on his face. She ran a hand over her hair to smooth it down as she slowly exhaled to calm her pounding heart. With all these people startling her, she was never going to get through the day. Tony was holding his wallet, clearly about to get something out of the machine. He had changed out of his clothes from yesterday. Today, he was wearing an obscure looking black t-shirt with a long-sleeved shirt underneath, dark jeans, and his usual black sneakers. He looked casual and expensive, no different than normal.

"He was just checking in on Captain Rogers," Emma said politely. Tony nodded in remembrance.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot that you're playing the part of spy," he said cheerfully.

"I'm not being a spy," Emma said. She felt uncomfortable at being called a spy, but she wondered if that was what she was doing. SHIELD had set her up to it. They'd asked her to get Steve to confide in her and then run back and tell them everything he was thinking. Was that considered spying? Nervousness flashed through her, lighting her up from the inside out.

"Sure you are. Trust me, I live with a spy. I know one when I see one," he responded. He put his money into the vending machine and punched a number in. "You guys sell Iron Man gummies. Pretty tasty, if I do say so myself. Does that make me a cannibal? I'm basically eating myself."

"Mr. Stark, I'm not a spy," Emma repeated adamantly. Tony rolled his eyes.

"Call me Tony," he said in a bored tone. "That Mr. Stark shit is old."

"Tony, I'm not a spy."

"Then what did Coulson want?" Tony had cornered her. Emma nervously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. God, she needed a new habit, she thought, mentally cursing at herself for looking so juvenile in front of the billionaire genius who was regarding her with a blatantly demanding expression.

"He just wanted to know how Captain Rogers has been doing," she replied slowly.

"And what'd you tell him?" Tony asked.

"I told him that Captain Rogers is doing fine. I told him about all the new technology Captain Rogers is learning and about last night with Grace."

Tony immediately frowned. His dark brown eyes were burning into she felt. _Goddammit_, she hissed at herself. It seemed like she was saying all kinds of things she wasn't supposed to.

"Last night with Grace?" Tony repeated. Emma slowly nodded.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"When you were gone, Agent Marks asked me if she could meet with Captain Rogers," she said quietly. Tony slowly nodded, mulling the information over in his head. When he looked back at her, his eyes were no longer filled with amusement and teasing. He looked as if he were going to say something but decided against it last minute. Instead, he nodded.

"Thank you, Nurse Emma. Well. I'll see you later." He took his gummy snacks and whisked away, leaving Emma with a sinking feeling in her stomach. It was the feeling she got only when she knew she had fucked up, and even though she didn't _how _she'd fucked up, that was exactly what had just happened.

* * *

"So what's this about you and Steve Rogers?" Tony snapped as soon as he entered the hospital room. He hated beating around the bush. He believed that people should be direct about what they wanted. By past experience, he'd learned that if you said upfront what you meant, you got what you wanted much faster than if you played passive-aggressive games. Coincidentally, that theory applied to every day life as much as it did to business.

He knew that he'd caught Grace when he saw her face immediately go blank. Grace was so familiar to him that he knew her defense mechanisms. She had opened herself up to him so much in the past year that she often had facial expressions in front of him, whereas with other people, she only showed them her blank face, and that was all they would ever get to know from her. Whenever he confronted her on anything that displeased her, her face shut down so he couldn't read her emotions. She stared at him with her large amber eyes.

"Who told you?" she asked calmly, again showing no emotion through her face. She was good, he had to give her that much.

"Does it matter?" he shot back.

"I guess not," she replied.

"So what was that about?" he repeated. "I'm not stupid, Grace. I've been able to figure out that you sent me out of here to go get that damn sweatshirt because you wanted to talk to Grandpa."

"It wasn't like that," Grace answered in that same calm voice.

"Then what was it like?" he demanded. She paused as she pulled her thoughts together. She knew she was in a pickle. It hadn't gone unknown to her that Tony would be mad if he found out that she'd spoken with Steve. She chewed on the inside of her mouth as she contemplated what to say.

"I just wanted to talk to him," she said.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tony asked.

"I did," she protested.

"You send me across the fucking city and don't say a word to me about this just because you wanted to talk to him? Bullshit, Grace, and you know it. That's why you've got your empty face on."

"Tony, you've been upset over this whole Captain America thing since he's been found," she said sharply. "I wanted to talk to him, and I knew you didn't want to see him so I asked you to get my sweatshirt. It was enough time for me to thank him."

"Thank him," Tony repeated in a dull monotone.

"Yes. You know, it really is all because of him that I'm alive. If my dad hadn't been so obsessed with Captain America, I never would've gotten the Serum injection, and I never would've been able to survive as many things as I have," she snapped at him.

"You knew I didn't want you seeing him," Tony retorted.

"Why? Because you're mad that your dad spent all of your life searching for him instead of spending time with you, too?" Grace said bitterly. Her words were like a slap across Tony's face, and the expression on his face showed it. She instantly regretted her words as she watched him blink hard in surprise. He twisted his mouth to the side and nodded slowly as if the pieces of a puzzle were coming together in his head.

"Ok," he said quietly.

"Tony, I'm sorry," she said.

"No, you're right," he said. "My dad never spent time with me because he was off chasing Captain America's tail."

"No, I'm not right. I was out of line. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just didn't want to upset you." Grace was startled to feel tears welling up in her eyes. The last time she'd cried had been a month before she'd left for her last mission.

Tony had been gone almost all day on a mission. Grace hadn't treated the day as if it were any different. She'd gone to SHIELD headquarters and continued her training as if it were another average day. She'd trained and undergone her weekly therapy session that she'd been going to ever since she'd been with SHIELD. Therapy wasn't even that intense because most of her issues had been hammered out as soon as she'd been brought in. She'd suffered a shit ton of trauma in South America, and she'd needed extensive therapy to bring her down out of her hyperaware survival mode that she'd gotten accustomed to living in for the years that she'd been in captivity.

It had been a usual day at SHIELD for Grace, and she'd gone home at the end of it. She'd ordered in Chinese food when Jarvis alerted her that Tony was about to land, as he usually did. Jarvis was about to warn her that Tony was severely injured when Tony had come crashing through the roof. Usually, Grace wouldn't have found that weird, but he hadn't been in control of the suit at all; he'd literally fallen through the roof from a high altitude and at a high speed.

He'd been bloody and banged up with a few burns on his arms. He was unconscious when Grace reached him, and he wouldn't wake up no matter how many times she called his name or touched him. Grace called in the special doctor that Tony allowed—the _only _doctor Tony allowed—and he was treated. The whole time she'd waited for the doctor to leave, she hadn't been able to stop shaking. The image of Tony unconscious on the floor of his lab had been a lot to take in. The image of him not moving, unresponsive to everything. When the doctor had left, she'd cried hard loud sobs that racked her body.

When he'd woken up, he wasn't able to hold her because of his burns, but he touched her hair and told her it was ok, he was ok. He'd let her cry, comforting her the best that he could as she released all the worry and the fear that she'd been holding back since he'd crash-landed through the roof. The things they went through for each other. They things they would do _for _each other.

"Hon, I'll support you no matter what you do," Tony said, crossing to her and sitting at the bottom of her hospital bed. "Captain America is a sore subject for both of us, and I didn't want to see _you _upset, particularly after all the shit you've been through. I mean, Jesus Christ, you fell off a fucking building." He put his hand on her shin that was lying beneath the blankets.

"The meds I'm on are fucking with my emotions," Grace replied tearfully as her blank defensive look slipped away from her. Tony laughed gently and moved closer to the head of the bed. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her. She fit perfectly against him. Her body was small and tired in his arms, but she hugged him back fiercely, tucking her head into the nape of his neck.

"I'm sorry," she said again. Tony smiled into her hair, feeling the vibrations of her voice and the whisper of her breath tickle the side of his neck. God, he loved her. He kissed her in her hair and nodded.

"I'm sorry, too," he said.

"Why?" she asked, pulling back to examine his face. Tony shrugged.

"I don't know. I felt like I should apologize," he said. Grace smiled at him and shook her head.

"You're impossible!" she said. It always amazed her how they could fight and then go back to the way they usually were. Only moments before Tony had been furious with her, and now he was smiling at her with that beautiful smile on his face and his brown eyes looking down at her. He winked at her.

"Remember the first time you said that to me?" he asked.

"I was very mad at you," she said. She knew he was referring to their first kiss that had taken place after a hospital ball that she'd had to go to when she was monitoring Tony last year.

"Well, I _am_ impossible," he said.

"I think you're trying to flirt with me," Grace replied blankly.

"_Trying_? Ok, now I'm mad at you again."

And by mad at her, he meant that he was going to climb into the hospital next to her and fall asleep. She didn't mind. Again, she was glad that he was sleeping. He needed the rest far more than she did. She closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief that their fight was over. He wasn't mad at her anymore, and he was sleeping hard. He was facing away from her towards the wall. She remembered the first time they'd kissed, and she smiled to herself. The memories were always with her.

Without realizing it, she slowly turned towards him and wrapped herself around him, just like she had on the plane on the way back from Monaco. Even though she was the one physically damaged and in the hospital, Tony was still the same little boy on the inside who longed for comfort. She fit snugly against him. She had decided last year that it wouldn't hurt her to be the one to give him comfort, and she hadn't regretted that decision since. As she drifted off to sleep, she felt the one thing that only Tony could bring out in her: safe. With her body secured around him, Agent Grace Marks felt safe.


	8. Reunion

**The usual shoutouts to Avengerlicious, hockeygurl39, Vanillamarilla, akt15, and Panda! Thank y'all so much for your reviews! Btw, if anyone liked the part where Tony referred to eating the Iron Man gummies as cannibalism, that was purely hockeygurl39's wonderful idea! Sorry I didn't give credit last time, but I wanted to send out the credit where it was rightly deserved, so thank you for making that comment in the reviews because it was a hilarious idea! =)**

**For all of you Trace (Tony/Grace) shippers, here's a nice smutty chapter for y'all that I've been holding off on ;) Let me know what you think of it and if you want more smut in future chapters! Let me know what you think of the backstory that I've added to Emma, too. I'm planning on including more in the upcoming chapters, but I'm easing into that a bit more slowly.**

**Keep reviewing and letting me know what you like and what you don't! =)**

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Chapter 8

"What was your childhood like?" Emma asked suddenly. She was sitting on the bottom of Steve's bed with her legs criss-crossed. Steve looked up at her. Ever since they'd kissed for the first time yesterday, they'd fallen into any easy pattern. They hadn't talked about the kiss yet, but there was something comfortable between the two of them that Steve found comforting. There was something familiar in Emma. Her smile, the way her hair was always coming loose, her unique grey-green eyes. She was the only thing that made sense, the only thing that was real.

He was still learning more about how to use a laptop; that morning she'd been patiently explaining how to use Microsoft Word when she decided to come out with the question. Her gaze was so honest and open that he couldn't brush the question off. That was something else about Emma: she was curious. She was curious about who he was. She wanted to know him. A half-smile crept onto his face.

"I was sick a lot," he said.

"I always forget that you didn't used to look like that," Emma answered ironically, returning his half-smile. He noticed how her eyes drifted down to examine his body, a slight hint of color melting onto her face. Quickly, her gaze shot back to meet his blue eyes, her expression clearing of any guilt of having been looking at his body.

"No, I was skinny," he said with a grin. "I was skinny and short, and I had a lot of medical problems. I wasn't athletic at all, either. Couldn't run more than 30 seconds without breaking into an asthma attack. It was hard on my mother, I remember. She was always working to pay off the medical bills. My father died when I was young so it was just the two of us."

"What was she like?" Emma asked. A soft smile spread across Steve's face. She took note of how young he looked. He looked his age, like a young, strong man in his prime who was remembering a pleasant time in his life. She wished that he hadn't been dealt the rough hand that he had been because he didn't deserve it. She grasped her hands together to keep herself from reaching out and grabbing him.

"She was wonderful. Kind, beautiful, caring. She worked a lot harder than she should have. She took care of me," he said gently. It was obvious that he was in a different world, reliving his past. His blue eyes were distant, and he wasn't looking at Emma anymore. She felt a little strange whenever he referenced things in his past; she felt as if she were an outsider who didn't understand. Honestly, that was probably how he felt, she knew: like an outsider from another world who couldn't make sense of how the world worked around him.

"She sounds lovely," she said quietly. He finally came back to her, his smile changing from happy to nostalgic.

"She was," he answered softly. "Well, enough about me now. What about you? What was your childhood like?"

"It was average," Emma replied with a shrug. "You know, the picture perfect life."

Steve frowned.

"Picture perfect?"

Emma winced as she realized he didn't understand her reference.

"Think of the ideal family," she said. "Simply put, that was mine. Everything was in the right place, everyone did the right thing. No big deal, you know? It was when they died that I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle, and I grew up with my cousins, and everything was ok."

"Nothing else?" Steve asked. Emma smiled a little too quickly and shook her head.

"Nothing else. Like I said, it was average."

Steve wasn't an expert at reading people, but he could see Emma was fighting something back. He wondered if he should press the issue, but she seemed more than happy to let the fake smile on her face speak more for her than her words would. She looked away from him, redirecting her gaze out the window in his room, her sea-colored eyes squinting as the sunlight hit them. He was always amazed by how her eyes changed colors. When the sun shone in just the right way, her eyes appeared green.

"What were your mother and father like?" he asked. She continued to gaze out the window, pausing for a moment.

"They were good people," she said seriously. "They loved me a lot. My mom was hilarious. She always had funny little commentaries to make about everything. My dad was a big softie. Loved animals. Especially cats."

"And your aunt and uncle?"

"They're also good people. They took care of me and made me feel like I was one of their own. My cousins are basically like my brothers. They're protective, and they want what's best for me. They're good people," she repeated. She finally looked back at him with a small smile on his face that looked more sad than happy. She sighed shakily and shrugged with a small laugh.

"I still get a little weepy," she mumbled apologetically. Without any warning, Steve had moved closer, and he had wrapped his arms around her. He was surprised at how instantly she relaxed in his arms; she didn't tense or attempt to pull away. Instead, she immediately loosened her muscles and leaned into him. Her head was nestled firmly against his shoulder, and he rested his head gently against hers.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be," he replied. She pulled back until their faces were only a few inches apart, her beautiful eyes staring into his. Her mouth was close to his, and he desperately wanted to kiss her, but he saw the look in her eyes, and he didn't, choosing to stay still and let her stare at him.

"I feel bad. Even though I lost my parents, I'm still in a place where I know what's going on. You've lost so much more than I have. I have no reason to complain," she said.

"Can you measure loss?" Steve asked ironically. She smiled gently at him and just as tenderly placed her hands on either side of his face. Her touch was cool and light against his skin.

"I don't think you can ever measure how much it hurts," she answered. The sadness that filled her voice moved Steve, and in a flash, his lips were pressed to hers. He felt her fingers curl into his hair, tugging it lightly as she pulled him closer to her. She was intoxicating, the smell of her all around him, the taste of her in his mouth, the feel of her beneath his hands. All of it made him feel the closest that he could to being drunk. He was dizzy, and his heart was jumping, but it was all in a good way. He smiled as he kissed her, and he could feel her smiling back. She paused and moved her head back a few inches. The sight of his blue eyes sparkling back at her made her stomach feel bubbly.

"What?" she asked. Jesus, he was a beautiful man. She'd never been able to deny it, but it seemed as if every time she looked at him, she was given another reminder as to just how beautiful he truly was. He was the perfect, all-American young man; he looked the part of Captain America.

"You're the first real thing I've experienced since I've woken up," he murmured, the breath of his words brushing against her lips, warming them. Emma fought the intense wave of guilt that threatened to consume her, forcing the panic to abate.

"I think I've woken up," she whispered before her mouth met his. And it was true. Steve had woken up to a whole new world around him, but she had been awakened by a man who seemed to understand it better than she did.

* * *

"You're not doing this," Grace said seriously, her amber eyes piercing ferociously into Tony's dark brown ones. He had never seen her look more threatening as she sat across from him, her long dark hair down and flowing over her shoulders. She looked frightening, but goddamn, was she beautiful.

"Yes, I am," he replied just as seriously. Her lips pressed into each other, and she narrowed her eyes at him. He got out of the car and walked around to her side, opening the door for her.

"Get out, Princess," he ordered. She stood up slowly as she gathered her bearings. Even though she'd been released from the hospital, she still felt a little weak on her feet. She hated feeling out of control, and that was exactly how she felt: out of control of her body. What she _wanted_ to do was run around and rejoice for having been released, but she could barely even walk without seeing the room spin and dip around her.

Tony swiftly tucked one arm behind her knees and the other around the small of her back, and he hoisted her up.

"I'm being romantic," he said. "You always say I'm not romantic. Jarvis, could you let me in?" The door swung open as he walked in.

"Welcome home, sir, Agent Marks," Jarvis greeted. Grace smiled, unable to hide it anymore. She really loved when Tony did romantic shit like this, and he knew it, but it was routine where she acted like she didn't, and Tony acted like he believed her, but she would always give in and smile at the end of it.

"Hi, Jarvis," she replied.

"How are you feeling, Agent?" Jarvis asked. She grimaced and shrugged as best she could as Tony carried her through the halls to their bedroom.

"I've been better," she said.

"I hope you have a speedy recovery. Would you like me to call in Chinese for tonight?" the artificial intelligence asked. Grace looked at Tony with raised eyebrows, curiously studying him for an answer.

"Well?" she asked. He rolled his eyes.

"You know I'm going to be giving into anything you want for the next month," he murmured.

"I take that as a yes," Jarvis piped up.

"Yes," Tony replied.

"The usual?"

"The usual."

Tony deposited the dark-haired agent in their bed, setting her down gently on top of the covers. Without saying a word, she waited for him to pull back the covers, and she stretched her legs out beneath them. He sat down at the edge of the bed next to her. He had to admit that it was strange seeing his girlfriend who was so physically active on bed rest. She didn't quite look herself, but he didn't focus on it. He focused on the fact that she was alive and out of the hospital; he focused on the fact that she was there in their bed in their house looking up at him with those amber eyes he loved and felt creeped out by all at the same time.

"Your eyes are so weird," he mumbled for the thousandth time. Grace rolled them at him but eased back into the covers. There was nothing like being in your own bed, she thought. She couldn't remember when she had started considering Tony's bed hers; it had just sort of happened. His house had also become hers, and she'd started referring to everything in the house as hers, too. It was _theirs_. They lived in the house _together_. She felt dizzy whenever the realization of it hit her.

The past year had been fast. Tony was always on missions, and she had gone on three in the time that she'd been living there, the last one ending disastrously. They had a great relationship; she couldn't deny it. They had an easy relaxation around each other. They were best friends and lovers, and that was the way it was supposed to be, she thought. She trusted him more than anyone, and she loved him more than she loved herself. In all honesty, it scared her to admit it. She knew that he felt the same way, though. His eyes spoke volumes, she always said. No one else could read him the way she could, and he knew it. He couldn't hide anything from her, he always said.

Sure, they had their fights. No relationship went without them. They fought, and they screamed at each other, but they always came back to each other. She loved him fiercely, and he loved her every inch as passionately as she did him. He wasn't the best at relationships; she'd never expected him to be. Basically all of his life he'd been a playboy, rotating girls in and out of his bed, but he was the best that he could be for her, and she loved him all the more for it. She sometimes wondered if he missed his old life, but she never asked him, knowing that he would insist he was happiest when he was with her. She didn't have any reason to doubt it, so she didn't.

"Kiss me," she murmured.

"I'll gladly oblige, Agent," he murmured back, and he placed his hands on either side of her and leaned down and kissed her. A deep hunger filled her body, and she ran her hands over his chest and down his body, sliding down to his hips. She pulled him tighter against her, aware of his eyes widening.

"Grace," he said quietly. She grabbed the hem of his shirt and began to lift it up. To her surprise, he tensed and took her hand away from him.

"What?" she asked, concern filling her voice. When his eyes met hers, she saw the struggle and the lust in them.

"Ah, fuck, Grace," he groaned out. "Jesus, I want you so badly it's killing me. The past three months have been torture, and then being so close to you in the hospital without even being able to do anything has been torture, but I can't."

Grace frowned. Tony had never turned her down in the past. Ever. When he had sprained his wrist on a mission, he hadn't turned her down. In fact, that night had been some of the best sex that Grace had ever had. Though honestly, every time they had sex, it felt like the best sex she'd ever had.

"What do you mean you can't?" she asked as she tried not to feel rejected. The frown on her face made Tony feel awful. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, causing it to stick up in that way Grace loved so much. She fought the urge to run her own hands through his hair, to feel the thickness and the softness of it beneath her fingers. She loved his hair. It was always perfect.

"You're hurt," he said quietly.

"Not really," she protested.

"You were just released from the hospital today," he insisted. Grace suddenly grabbed his face and pressed her mouth tightly to his. Her tongue pushed its way into the wet heat of his own mouth. He was tense against her, but as she continued to deepen the kiss, he relaxed. He let out a moan into her mouth.

"Grace," he breathed, but his tone had changed from hesitation to want. She reached out and grasped him between his legs. He sharply inhaled through his mouth and closed his eyes tightly as she massaged him. Fuck, he'd missed this. He grimaced as he fought for self-control. Opening his eyes, he saw Grace's amber eyes staring at him with curiosity and want, and he stopped holding back. Her hand continued stroking him over his pants, and his erection pressed firmly and obviously back. In a flash, he had the covers thrown back, and he had her flat on her back beneath him.

Grace smiled as Tony's hips ground roughly into hers, parting her thighs to wrap around him. Her back arched as his mouth greedily planted itself against her neck and sucked hard. One positive of not having to go to work tomorrow or for the rest of the month was the fact that Tony could give her hickeys. Her pelvis pressed hard into his.

With a quick rush of hands and fabric, she removed his shirt. Her eyes roamed over his body, admiring it for the millionth time. She carefully placed her hands on his chest, remaining cautious of his arc reactor. She knew that it caused him some discomfort at times, and she was always careful during sex to not bother it. His eyes closed as she touched him lightly, her hands skimming over his body.

"I missed you," she whispered, surprised at the emotion that filled her voice. She was so good at keeping herself detached during a mission; of course, she missed Tony all the time whenever she was away from him, but she'd held the feelings at bay, and she really allowed herself to accept that he was with her, pressing against her.

"God, I missed you, too," Tony mumbled against the nape of her neck before he removed her own shirt. He took it another step by sliding her leggings down and depositing them on the floor. In return, Grace's hands reached down to his waistband and undid the button and zipper on his jeans. She shoved her hand down the front of him to grasp him firmly. A tight groan escaped from his lips as her hand closed around him.

"Jesus, Grace," he breathed. Before he knew it, his pants and boxer briefs were off, and he'd tucked his thumbs into the elastic of her own underwear, pulling them down her body and tossing them over his shoulder. The bare heat of her body surrounded him and consumed him. The only thing he could think about was her. He lowered himself on top of her, feeling the smoothness of her skin beneath him. She was there. She wasn't away from him anymore. She was there with him with her hands gripping his hair tightly to the point that it almost caused him pain, but he liked it. His teeth nipped her shoulder, and he was answered by the sharp breath that she inhaled in as the sensation overwhelmed her.

He reached down between her thighs and positioned himself in the right spot. With an easy gentle push, he slid inside her. His eyes closed as the sensation of her wet heat blasted him with a full greeting. He slowly pulled back and then pushed back in, moving his hips carefully and gently.

"Oh, god, yes," he moaned. Grace reached her arms around him and pulled him close to her. She was aware of his forced steady breathing, and she dug her nails in his back as pleasure overtook her.

"Tony," she whispered. His pace began to quicken, and soon he was moving at swift, steady speed. His thrusts were gentle, but they were firm into her. She closed her eyes as his mouth covered hers. Tony knew he wouldn't last much longer; he'd been apart from Grace for three months, and he'd missed her more than she ever could've known. She was hot and wet around him, and when she dug her nails into his skin, the slight sting bringing him back to reality, he pressed his lips to her neck.

She shook and tightened beneath him as the orgasm rippled through her body. A cry left her lips, ringing in the air beside his ear. As she tensed around him, her muscles triggered his own orgasm.

"Oh, god, Grace!" he shouted as he began to come inside her. With a hard, violent thrust, he held himself in place as he emptied himself. A strangled moan escaped from his lips, and he collapsed on top of her, careful not to crush her beneath his weight. His chest was heaving, and his pupils were wide from his climax. Grace had a smile on her face as she relished the feeling of sex with Tony. Damn straight, it got better each time, she thought with satisfaction.

Tony's lips found their way to her collarbone, and he sweetly kissed her there. The salt from the sweat of her skin was on his lips as a friendly reminder of what had just passed between them. With great effort, he pulled himself out of her and rolled onto his back. As quickly as she could, Grace moved to the bathroom to take care of what she needed to.

In her absence, Tony slowly put his boxer briefs and his shirt back on. He knew that Grace would crash as soon as she got back in bed, and he didn't want the light of his arc reactor to bother her. Within a few seconds, she was back in bed with her own underwear and shirt on.

Tony gazed at her as she settled next to him in bed. He could see that sleep was already fighting its way into her eyes as it always did after sex, but he knew that she was even more tired after having been hospitalized.

"Hi," he said quietly. She smiled sleepily at him and curled up with her back against him. He loosely draped an arm over her and wrapped himself as a loose protective shell around her.

"I love you," she whispered sleepily as unconsciousness slipped over her. She was right back where she belonged: in the arms of the man who loved her in the bed that they shared together. No thoughts of SHIELD, the hospital, Steve Rogers, or Dr. Andrew Marks crossed her mind as she drifted off to sleep. The only thing that she could think of was the fact that she was home. She was where she belonged, and there were fewer things sweeter than that knowledge right there.


	9. 1942

**Shoutouts to akt15 and hockeygurl39! Keep the reviews coming, y'all!**

**Quick note that I forgot to include in my last Author's Note. I had a question about why it was so important for Grace to talk to Steve, and I thought it'd be best to answer this where everyone could see just in case there was any confusion! If you think about it, Grace's sole purpose of being born was to be a test subject for her parents' version of the Super Soldier Serum. She didn't have much of a relationship with her dad because he was off trying to find Captain America. She grew up with Captain America being so much a part of her life and the whole reason that her parents weren't attentive. I thought it'd make sense for her to want to at least meet him and talk to him. Tony knows that Captain America is a sensitive subject for her because it is for him as well, and he only wants to protect her. He doesn't want her opening up any old wounds that might be more painful than necessary. That's why he didn't want her talking to Steve. He also doesn't want her to talk to Steve and then try to encourage him to talk to Steve because he's not ready to just yet. They're not going to meet until the Avengers sequel. I hope that cleared some things up!**

**Since I've focused so much on Grace and Tony, this chapter is entirely Steve and Emma! (Should their couple name be Stemma? Too corny? :P) Don't worry, Trace shippers, they will be back in the next chapter. I just thought that I should give Steve and Emma a chapter since I feel like I've been overlooking them a little bit. This story may wind up going to 20 chapters because I haven't gotten in as much background as I thought I would've by now. No promises either way!**

**Keep reviewing and telling me your thoughts!**

* * *

Chapter 9

The last person that Emma Carroll thought would come see Steve Rogers walked through the door into his room just as she was explaining the concept of a webcam to the blonde super soldier. She looked up with wide eyes as the person walked in the room, and she immediately stiffened, her pulse quickening in hesitation.

Everyone knew who Nick Fury was. There was never a question about it; he was the director of SHIELD. However, he rarely came to the hospital, and whenever he _did _come, everyone had previous notice so that everything was in tip-top shape. Emma had been around him only two other times: the two other times that Steve Rogers had been involved. She had been present for Director Fury's visit when Steve had been brought in and then again when Steve had woken up. Director Fury didn't grace the hospital with his presence unless there was a serious issue at hand, and she could only guess that a serious issue was at hand by the look in Director Fury's…eye.

"Captain. Miss Carroll," he greeted. Steve had set aside the laptop as soon as the man had entered the room. The blonde man had a frown on his face as he racked his brain trying to think of whether or not he'd been prepared for this visit. No one had said anything to him about Fury's coming there, so he could only guess why Fury was now in his room. He swung his legs over the edge of his hospital bed and stood up to shake the tall man's hand.

"Director Fury," he said. Fury gestured back to the edge of the bed.

"Please," he said. "Sit down. You, too, Miss Carroll."

Emma nervously tucked her hair behind her ear even though she didn't need to. Being around Director Fury made her nervous; God, who _wouldn't _find the man and his eye patch intimidating?

"I hear that you were talking to an agent of mine. Agent Grace Marks," Fury said, directing his gaze back to Steve. Steve nodded, the frown still on his face as he tried to process what Fury was doing there.

"Yes, sir, I spoke with her several nights ago," he said cautiously.

"Do you know who she's shacking up with?" Fury asked. Steve shook his head, his frown only deepening.

"Agent Grace Marks is the live-in girlfriend of Tony Stark. Does that name ring a bell?"

At the name Stark, Steve's blue eyes widened. Howard. A quick flash of hope filled his chest, and his face brightened. Even though he knew that Howard was dead, the last name Stark was a connection to his past, and he was grasping at straws for any kind of connection that he could get so he could make sense of everything.

"Stark," he said quickly. Fury nodded, pleased.

"Yes. Stark. Tony Stark is the son of Howard Stark. Coincidentally, his girlfriend was given a Super Soldier Serum very similar to yours, and her father was the one who found you. Small world, ain't it?" he mused with an ironic smile on his face. "Captain, there's something called the Avengers Initiative that I'd like you to be a part of. If you accept, you can move out of this damn hospital. We have you an apartment just down the street."

Steve's frown only seemed to deepen.

"Avengers Initiative," he repeated. Fury nodded.

"Yes. It's still in the beginning stages, so there's not much information I can give you at this moment. What I can say, though, is that you'll be doing work real similar to what you were doing back in World War II," he said.

"I wouldn't have to stay here anymore," Steve said, his voice more of a statement than a question. Fury nodded again.

"You'd be out of here ASAP," he said.

"And all I have to do is agree to this?"

"Yes."

"What's Emma's part in it?" Steve asked, gesturing his head towards the light-haired nurse. Emma attempted a half-smile, but she realized that it was probably coming across as more of a grimace, so she stopped. She could feel Fury's stare on her, and she wanted to sink through the floor. This was a man who was very high up in SHIELD. Technically, if he thought that she was doing a bad job right now, he could fire her on the spot, and that'd be that. He had a shit ton of power.

"Agent Coulson has told me about her part in helping you learn technology, and I'd like her to continue keeping you on top of all this fancy ass tech," Fury said solidly. "Besides, she's been with the hospital for a long time, and Agent Coulson finds her trustworthy, so I know she won't go repeating anything."

Emma felt a chill over her spine at the implications of Fury's words. She forced a small smile on her face, and she nodded.

"I'd love to keep helping him with his technological skills," she said in a tight voice that sounded a lot more formal than she'd intended it to.

"So basically you just want me to agree to this Avengers Initiative thing without telling me a single thing about it," Steve said, a hint of a challenge rising into his voice. Fury stared evenly back at him. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze solid.

"Agent Marks is a part of the Avengers Initiative," he said. "I have a feeling that the two of you have a lot of things to talk about."

"I barely know her," Steve protested. Nick Fury answered him with a booming laugh and a large smile on his face, looking as if he were greatly amused by what Steve had just said. He shook his head slowly back and forth, continuing to stare at the man in front of him.

"Trust me," he said. "You'll have a lot of things to talk about with her."

"I want to meet Stark," Steve said. Fury's eyebrows raised, and he laughed again.

"Captain, you've clearly never met Tony Stark," he said with a grin. "You'll meet him before too long. Will you do it?"

Steve hesitated, weighing the options. If he said no to what Fury was proposing, he would still be in this hospital. He would be virtually homeless, and he wouldn't have anywhere to go. SHIELD could assign him to anything, and he'd be forced into it because he had no other options. Fury was giving him a choice. It wasn't much of a choice, he realized, but he didn't have anything else. He looked firmly back at Fury, and he nodded.

"I will."

"Here's the address and the key. The place is already furnished, so you don't have to worry anything about it. Miss Carroll, could I see you for a moment outside?" Fury suddenly glanced at her, and she found herself struck with fear but nodding in agreement to meet him outside. Her legs felt numb as she stood up and followed the man out into the hall.

She wondered how she'd gotten mixed up into this mess. She was only a nurse; nurses weren't supposed to mingle with the agents. An agent's duty and a nurse's duty were two separate things, but now she felt more like an agent than a nurse these days. She'd been pulled off of all her patients, and SHIELD had asked her to betray Steve Rogers. Yeah. She was more of an agent.

"Yes, sir?" she asked as soon as they'd stepped out into the hall, closing the door to Steve's room behind her. Fury's face looked slightly less business as he folded his arms and stared down at her. Sure, she was a small woman, but she felt especially tiny compared to Director Nick Fury.

"Miss Carroll, you've been commissioned by Agent Coulson and myself to keep an eye out for Captain Rogers while he gets back on his feet. We still need more information about how he's doing, and the more he's around you, the more he trusts you. Even though he won't be in the hospital, we're still expecting you to keep up with him. Do you understand?" Fury asked quietly. Emma nodded, feeling the guilt and hesitation creeping back into her body. Why was it that she kept getting dragged further and further into this?

"What about my job?" she asked.

"No need to worry about that. Whenever your business with Captain Rogers is done, you will continue working here. You will be paid for your work with Captain Rogers."

"Sir, I'm not 'working' with Captain Rogers," Emma protested before she could bite back the words. "I'm just talking to him. That's all he wants. Someone to talk to him."

"Miss Carroll, in our business profession, talk is work," Fury replied. "Agent Coulson said that we could rely on you."

"Yes, sir, you can," she said. "I'm just concerned for Captain Rogers's well being once he realizes what my purpose in befriending him was."

Fury paused for a moment, taking a few seconds to study Emma's face. Realization hit him, and he wiped his hand over his face and let out an aggravated sigh.

"Goddammit," he mumbled. "Not again."

"Sir?" Emma asked.

"Do you got feelings for the dude?" Fury asked, his voice changing from professional to personal. The frown on Emma's face only became more prominent, and she felt her cheeks flushing the way they always did whenever she was put on the spot. Fuck, she was a horrible liar. She could work with lies of omission, which she was technically doing with Steve, but she was horrible when it came to denying something outright. She sputtered as she tried to find the words, and Fury groaned.

"Goddammit," he said. "Look, I don't care what the fuck you do, Miss Carroll, but assess his mental stability and get him to open up to, ok? Deal with the rest of the shit as it comes."

"Ok…sir," Emma said in a confused tone. Fury nodded sharply to her and turned away, rolling his eyes and muttering something that she couldn't hear under his breath. She watched him walk away, noticing how the other nurses and doctors stepped out of his way whenever he passed them. Then he was gone.

She stood stock still out in the hall, wondering if that had really just happened. One day she'd been a simple nurse who was taking care of her patients, and then BAM out of nowhere she was in the middle of an action movie that somehow resembled her life. She blew a breath out quickly and entered the room. Steve was standing in shoes and had the key and address in his hand.

"Are you leaving?" Emma asked.

"You bet I am," Steve said cheerfully. His face was the happiest that he had looked since he'd been there. Ever since he'd woken up he'd stared out that window every day, and now he was getting a chance to go out. In all honesty, he was nervous about going out and seeing New York City because he knew it was so different than how he remembered it, and he wasn't sure if he was quite ready to see that yet. On the other hand, he was so sick and tired of being cooped up in that damn hospital that he was looking forward to finally getting out.

"You ready?" he asked. Emma tilted her head to the side in confusion.

"Ready?" she repeated. He nodded.

"Yeah. You're showing me around, right? Is that what Director Fury was talking to you about?" he asked, looking mildly lost. Emma decided to jump on what he was saying and go with it, nodding and forcing a smile on her face.

"Yes," she said. "Yes. That's exactly what he was talking to me about."

* * *

Emma was impressed. The apartment wasn't the world's most luxurious lodging, but it certainly wasn't terrible. It had everything that it needed plus a little extra. The walls were clean, painted a neutral color, and neatly decorated. The furnishings looked relatively new and unused, and it was mildly spacious at that, too. Fury hadn't been kidding about it being right down the street from the hospital either; it'd been maybe a five minute walk before they'd found it. The whole walk down, Steve had been gaping at everything around him with an expression on his face that was a mixture of amazed, confused, and overwhelmed. Now as he stood in his apartment, Steve was beaming as he took the sight of it in.

"I guess that whatever they have me do can't be that bad, right?" he asked wryly.

"I guess not," she agreed. "Still. It sounds pretty top secret and dangerous. The Avengers Initiative?"

"It couldn't have been that top secret if he'd mention it with you around," Steve protested.

"Please. I'm just a nurse. No one thinks anything of a nurse," she said with a smirk, her words hitting more true to home than she'd been expecting. Steve certainly didn't suspect her of anything. He had no idea that she was trying to get him to open up to her just so she could turn around and tell SHIELD everything that he was saying. What she didn't understand was why SHIELD didn't do it themselves. Why couldn't they just ask him how he was doing? Of course. The answer was obvious. They were SHIELD. No one trusted them, and no one would be honest about how he felt when SHIELD was doing the asking.

"I don't think you're just a nurse," Steve said suddenly, his face changing as he looked at her. For the first time since he'd woken up, he felt strangely less pessimistic about his new circumstances. Maybe 2011 wasn't going to completely suck; he would pick up on technology, and he would relearn his way around New York, and he would lose the memories of his past. He'd forget what Peggy looked like in her uniform. He'd forget Bucky's screams as he'd fallen away from the train.

Steve pushed the thoughts out of his brain. He'd been thinking about them nonstop for the past 24 hours, and he couldn't deal with them at the moment. When he was alone with no one else near him, he'd finally give into the thoughts, but not here with Emma present. There was no space for anything else whenever she was near.

"Really, that's all I am," she answered with a modest shrug and smile.

"You do a lot for people," he said. She shrugged again.

"How does this place compare to your old residence?" she asked, hoping that her question wasn't rude. Steve knew she was trying to change the subject, but he didn't call her on it. Instead, he just went with it.

"It's better, that's for sure," he said. "My old place was so small you could barely breathe in it."

He smiled at the memory of his old apartment. It'd been small and dark, and he'd hated it, but he'd lived with it because it had been his. Again, he was in a space that was all his, and that was what he needed most in his life at the moment. He didn't seem to belong anywhere, but if something could belong to him, maybe he could find out where exactly he was supposed to be.

"Did you grow up in New York?" he asked Emma. She shook her head, a thin smile across her lips.

"No. I grew up in Connecticut. It was a small suburb of Hartford so it was pretty quiet," she said. "Thankfully, my aunt and uncle were in the next town over so when my parents died I wasn't completely uprooted and had my life turned upside down on me where I had to start all over."

She looked at Steve and then realized what she'd just said.

"Ah, dammit. I'm sorry. I always say insensitive things to you. I never think before I speak," she said. He shrugged it off with a smile and crossed over to her. His eyes scanned over her face, and he carefully placed his hands around her waist. A typical bright Emma smile spread across her mouth, making her look like sunshine itself.

"Don't change a thing," he said quietly and rested his forehead against hers. For all the time that Emma had spent around him, this was the first time that she'd really noticed how much taller he was. She felt small and compact with his hands around her waist, and she didn't mind. She also felt protected.

"What are you going to do once I teach you how to use technology and get around New York City?" she asked, attempting some humor but finding that she was falling short. The smile didn't quite make its way up to her eyes. Irritated with herself, she hoped that her question hadn't sounded as fishy out loud as it did now that she replayed it in her head.

"Are you planning on leaving anytime soon?" Steve asked. Emma shook her head quickly.

"No," she said. "Besides, there's a lot that you still have to learn."

"Then teach it slowly."

At Steve's words, she couldn't help herself. She tilted her face up and kissed him. The familiar feeling of dizziness and bubbles in her stomach settled into her, overwhelming her senses. Kissing Steve Rogers was toxic, she decided. If this kept up, she'd never be able to feel like she was on solid ground again.

One thing she loved about Steve was that he never pushed anything with her. He never pressed her tight against his hips, and he never initiated anything that he thought would be too inappropriate. Those 1940s morals were still implanted in his brain, and Emma couldn't say that she minded. He was respectful and slow, always seeming to pull back and make sure that she was ok.

"Gee, I can't seem to breathe," Steve said with a grin. Emma smiled back at him.

"'Gee'?" she asked teasingly.

"What? Is there something wrong with that?" he asked with a slight confused frown. Emma laughed.

"I don't think I've heard an adult man say 'gee' before," she replied. Steve blushed slightly, but he shrugged as Emma giggled at him. He didn't mind whenever she called him out on things that people didn't say anymore; in fact, he welcomed it. He was trying to blend in as much as he could with the modern world, and if no one said gee anymore, he didn't want to be the sore thumb sticking out that did.

"Do people still call each other dead-hoofers?" he asked. Emma furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head.

"What? I've never heard anyone use that expression. What's that even mean?"

"A dead-hoofer is someone who's a bad dancer," Steve answered with a smile. Emma's face lit up as she processed the information, and she giggled.

"A dead-hoofer. I like that. Are you a dead-hoofer?" She moved in a little closer to him and linked her hands together behind his back. Steve felt himself beginning to sweat as he realized how close they were. He could feel her small form gently against him, and he willed himself to stay cool.

"I don't really dance much," he said with an apologetic shrug.

"Correction: you _didn't_ really dance much," Emma said smugly.

"What?"

"You didn't dance much back in 1942. In 2011, you'll dance a lot," she said firmly.

"What makes you so sure of that, Miss Carroll?" Steve asked, still begging his mind to ignore how nice she felt against him. He focused on the clearness of her face, the openness of her eyes, how she had to tilt her head back to look up at him, and he could feel the tip of her ponytail brushing against his hand.

"We're going to go dancing, Captain. A good, modern dance."

"I thought you were supposed to help me adjust to modern life, not scare the daylights out of me," he answered with a smirk.

"I _am _helping you_,_" she said gently and kissed him again. He accepted her open mouth and again willed himself to focus on anything but how great it felt to be so close to her, to be kissing her.

"Gee, you're a dreamboat," he said as he pulled back. Emma's eyes widened. "What?"

"That was probably the cutest thing anyone's ever said to me," she said, grinning hugely.

"You have 1942 to thank for that," he said.

"Well, Captain, I'd rather thank 1942 for giving me you," she replied quietly. Steve closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers again. He didn't say anything. He couldn't. If he did, the moment would be ruined, and he wasn't ready to break the moment. He wasn't ready to break away from her just yet, so he just closed his eyes and held her close.

He might not have been ready to break the moment, but God, he was beyond ready for Emma. It'd just taken him until now to know it.


	10. Scorpion

**The usual shoutouts to Vanillamarilla and maddieclaybourne! Keep the reviews coming! Your opinion is so helpful to me, and I want to keep catering to what you guys want =)**

**This is a long chapter, so I hope y'all enjoy it! Trace is back at the very end. There's going to be one part of this chapter that's going to make y'all hate me, but don't worry...no one's going to die ;) Let me know if you want more smut in future chapters. I've thought about writing a Stemma sex scene, but I'm not sure if that'd be too weird, considering that it'd technically be Steve losing his virginity. Would that be weird? Please review giving your opinion on that. Do you want that scene, or do you not? If you don't give an opinion, I'll either assume one way or the other, so PLEASE leave me feedback on whether or not you want a Stemma sex scene if you review nothing else!**

**To any new and confused readers, if you want to know who Agent Grace Marks is and how she and Tony got together, your questions will be answered in the original story Survival Skills. Technically, this story is a sequel to that one so it'll make a lot more sense if you read that first!**

**Well, here's the long ass chapter! Hope y'all enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 10

When Steve woke up the next morning, he was briefly disconcerted by his unfamiliar surroundings. Then he remembered yesterday's events. He no longer lived in the SHIELD hospital. He had his own space in the world. Checking the alarm clock by his bed, he saw that it was 6:00 A.M. He'd never been one to sleep in, preferring to wake up early. In his opinion, there was so much to get done that he couldn't waste his time sleeping.

He slowly got ready, familiarizing himself with his new apartment. There had even been clothes in the closet for him. He'd chosen a pair of khaki pants and a button down that he would neatly tuck in. The shower had good pressure, and the floors were tile beneath his feet. He still couldn't believe that he finally had a place that was his. Well, technically, the apartment belonged to SHIELD, but he still thought of it as his.

Thinking of things that were his, he thought of Emma. He poured the coffee into his mug and checked the cell phone that she'd taught him how to use yesterday. Since he was "out on his own," she'd insisted that he learn how to use the cell phone to make communicating easier for them. Text messaging still blew his mind, but it was simple enough. All of this technology was overwhelming for him because these realities had only been ideas back in his time. They were supposed to be out of a science fiction novel, and yet, they existed right in front of his very eyes.

Emma had never once lost her patience with him. Even when he'd been frustrated with the touch screen, she'd never lost her calm, soothing voice as she talked him through the rest of it. She always helped him find the answers. He'd never met anyone like Emma Carroll before. He'd never felt the way about a woman the way he did about Emma Carroll. There was just something about the blonde-brunette that told him he could trust her more than he could trust anyone else, and he knew that he did.

She saw him as an individual. She didn't look at him as if he were a freak or someone to be afraid of. She didn't even look at him as a hero. She saw him as just a person, and that was all. If he happened to be Captain America, then that was just what it was. If he happened to be from 1942 and technically over 90 years old, that was just another part of what made him Steve. She wasn't afraid of him, and he loved that about her.

He recognized the fact that he had just thought the word "love" in his head as he'd thought about Emma. Love. He'd never loved a woman in a romantic sense before. Sure, he'd been very attracted to Peggy, and he'd liked her a hell of a lot, but he wasn't sure if he could consider that love.

Peggy.

He breathed calmly as he took a swallow of his coffee. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the image of her imprinted on the back of his eyelids. It was only natural for him to wonder what had happened to her. Was she still alive? Was she dead? Had she ever married anyone? The last thought made him feel a pang in his stomach that he didn't want to admit was present. Her dark hair and her red lips standing out against her white skin as she stood with her hands on her slender hips. She was always in control, and he'd liked that about her; she never stood down to anyone.

He allowed his mind to wander back to the question of whether she had married. Taking another sip of his coffee, he closed his eyes hard and quickly pushed the thought out of his head. What did it matter now? Besides, it shouldn't even matter to him now that he'd found Emma. Emma. Emma, who brought light with her wherever she went. Emma, who never played games with him. Emma, who was forthright about her thoughts. Emma, whose eyes were so clear and open that he could almost look into her if he really wanted to. There was always Emma.

A knock on the door startled him from his thoughts. He glanced up at the clock on the wall: 6:45 A.M. Emma was right on time.

He stood up and opened the door. His heart tugged as he saw her standing in front of him with her usual large smile and a paper bag in her hand. He was pleasantly surprised to see that she was out of her scrubs, instead opting to wear dark wash skinny jeans, black flats, and a loose pin-stripe button down shirt that had several buttons undone, revealing a light grey cami underneath. A dark red scarf around her neck wrapped it all together. She looked good and casual, as if she hadn't put much time into looking good. He realized that he was staring at her body, and he forced himself to bring his eyes back up to her face. If she noticed that he'd been staring at her, she didn't show any reaction.

"Hi," he said quietly. With no verbal response, she stood on her tiptoes, put one hand on the back of his neck, and kissed him warmly. Steve stopped breathing, but he snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her in closer without pressing her against him for fear of crossing the lines of what was appropriate and what wasn't. She pulled back and looked at him for a few seconds, her grey-green eyes dancing in the early morning sunlight, before gently hip-checking him and walking into his apartment.

"Good morning to you, too," he said, unable to fight the smile on his face.

"We're going out," Emma said cheerfully. Her gaze drifted to the bag in her hand. "Oh, well, after we eat this. Did you eat breakfast? I got croissants in case you didn't. These are the world's best croissants."

She held up the bag as if he needed tempting.

"World's best? I guess I have to try them," he said. She visibly lit up.

"Perfect! Here. I'll give them to you. I don't want to start walking around your apartment as if I own the place," she said with a guilty shrug, handing the bag to Steve. As he took the bag, he reached out and grabbed her face, planting a kiss against the side of her head in her hair. He didn't look at her as he pulled away because he could feel the heat of her smile against him.

* * *

"Where are we going first?" Steve asked. He had to admit that Emma had been right. The croissants that she'd brought had been delicious, and he felt energized after his breakfast. He finished locking the door to his apartment, and he looked at her. She was already standing on the bottom step of the apartment, itching to go. She looked like a little kid who desperately wanted her parent to hurry up so she could show something. She looked adorable, and he couldn't help smiling.

"I should be asking you that," she said. He felt his eyebrows crinkle a little as he frowned.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"You're going to show me all the places that are familiar to you and tell me why they mean something to you," she said. Her plan sank into his brain, and he nodded as he processed what she'd just said. He wasn't sure whether he thought it was a good idea or not, but she looked so excited and proud of herself that he just swallowed and nodded again.

"Ok," he said. "Ok. How do we get to Central Park? I think I can figure out a lot of what I remember if we start there."

Emma didn't say a word. He walked down to her, and she started walking quickly in a direction, the same smile on her face. Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed her hand. Her pace slowed, but she didn't stop. She held his back firmly, her grip strong but gentle, ironically a lot like her personality, he thought. He grinned to himself, noticing how sentimental he was. The right woman certainly brought it out.

Before long, they were at Central Park. Emma was telling him about the most recent changes of New York City, primarily what 9/11 had been and how it had changed the city. It was strange for him to hear about something that had apparently so deeply affected the nation when he hadn't even been there to see what the towers had looked like in the first place.

He scanned over the trees and the buildings, trying to make sense of what was happening around him. Everything looked so different, but there was still so much that was the same. It was really a mind fuck for the soldier. Breathing steadily, he picked a direction and started walking, Emma grasping along behind him.

"Where are we going?" she asked. The excitement and anticipation was evident in her voice.

"Where it all began," Steve answered, sounding ambiguous. He didn't know how Emma would react to seeing anything having to do with his past. Honestly, he didn't know how he would react seeing what his past had become in the years he'd been asleep. The fear that he'd be disappointed was so strong that his chest grew tight, and he had to force his breathing to remain calm. He was aware of Emma's eagerness beside him, and he instantly felt guilty for feeling so afraid when she was so excited.

Neither of them knew how long they'd walked, but soon they were approaching the front of an abandoned building. Steve slowed his pace down tremendously with Emma following his lead, glancing up at him with concern. His face was tight, and it was obvious that he was fighting something by the look in his eyes, but he kept walking. He stood in front of the building staring up at it. Emma waited for him to say something, but he didn't; she wasn't sure if the best thing to do was say something, but she stayed quiet to let him gather his thoughts. Again, his mind wasn't there with her; he was decades in the past. His troubled blue eyes saw that he was seeing something in his memory, not what was actually in front of him. A quick flash of panic erupted in Emma's solar plexus as she wondered if she was losing him. Her hand tightened around his, trying to get him to come back to her. Suddenly, he blinked hard, and he seemed to be back.

"Well, this is it," he said quietly. "This is where I went from being Steve Rogers, the skinny kid who could barely breathe to being Captain America, an image of false hope."

"Don't say that," Emma said quickly.

"It's true. At first they wanted me to be just that."

"But you weren't. You're a hero, Steve." Her voice was quiet, the tone soothing his quick-fire brain as if she were singing a lullaby to him. His jaw clenched, but then he forced it to relax.

"Was," he corrected.

"Stop," she said. He didn't reply. He kept looking at the building with that distant gaze in his eye, and Emma then knew what the problem was. Her hand loosened the grip on his, and she took a step back from him. She should've known. It was obvious, written all over his face. The realization of what she'd just discovered felt like someone had hit her directly in her Adam's apple.

"Who was she?" she asked. She was surprised to hear how tense her voice was. Why was she letting this affect her? She should've known. Those words kept repeating themselves in her brain: _you should've known_.

"What?" Steve asked, pulled back out of his memory world.

"The girl," Emma said, attempting to sound nonchalant. She pulled her hand away from his and crossed her arms. God, she hated herself for how she was acting, what she was doing. Ever since she was little, she'd told herself that she wouldn't be that kind of girl, but here she was acting jealous over a woman she didn't know who was probably dead. It wasn't as if she, Emma herself, were Steve's girlfriend anyway. A mixture of humiliation and strangeness settled over her. She squinted her eyes at him, scanning across his face to read his reaction.

"What?" he repeated, frowning as the reality of the situation seeped into him.

"There's always a girl," she said with a half-smile. "Besides, I can see it in your face."

Steve was quiet, gazing levelly at her. Then he looked down at his shoes as if he were ashamed. Fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt, he refused to look at her, his stare remaining on either the ground or his shoes—Emma couldn't tell. The top of his blonde head glistened in the early morning sunlight. The bright shine of his hair only made him look even more blonde, the glow of his hair bringing out all the lightness around him.

"Peggy Carter," he said quietly. He still didn't look up at her; he didn't think that he could bear to see her expression. His sleeve had never been more fascinating.

Emma only stared at him, slowly nodding her head. She looked back at the building, squinting her eyes as she took the sight of it in. Due its dilapidated condition, she couldn't even tell what the building had been back in its day, back when Steve had undergone his procedure. It was also impossible to tell when the building had been shut down. Briefly, it crossed her mind if it bothered Steve to see it in such disarray, but she couldn't bring herself to ask him. Instead, she stood there staring at the building and hating herself for feeling the way she did.

"We met through the Army. She was involved with the project that had to do with my transformation," he supplied. Emma wasn't sure if she appreciated that he was offering more information than she'd asked for, but she still didn't say anything. She should've known.

"What happened to her?" she finally asked.

"I don't know," Steve answered.

"Do you want to know?" She hated herself even more for asking the question, but it had slipped out of her mouth before she'd had time to think about it.

Then the explosion happened. The last thing Emma saw was the glint of blonde hair in sunlight, and then she lost consciousness.

* * *

"Tony…Tony…_Tony_...Anthony!"

Tony's head shot up at the sound of his name. He glanced over at the couch in the corner of the lab to see Grace sitting there staring expectantly at him. _Oh shit, _flashed through his mind, and he wondered how long she'd been talking to him before she realized that he hadn't been listening.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Did you hear anything of what I just said?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. Tony contemplated saying yes, but he decided against it. The truth was always the best with Grace. She knew when he was lying anyway.

"No," he said dully.

"Huh. At least you're honest," she said with a shrug. "I was asking you what exactly this means." She held up the giant textbook that she'd been reading. He set down his tools and pushed himself to his feet. His latest suit was still in the works, and he was in the heat of working on it. When he'd begun building the Stark Tower in New York, he'd made sure that the lab there would be every bit as good as it was in his Malibu home, and it was perfect. As much as he would've preferred to have been _home _home, Grace wasn't able to travel that far yet, and they'd bunked up in their New York lodging.

He desperately wanted to continue working on his suit because he had an idea hot in his mind, but he got up and went to go explain something in the textbook to Grace. For the past 24 hours, she'd been poring over one of his old mechanical engineering books, and he had no idea why. He knelt down next to her, leaning his elbows on the couch, gazing up at her.

"Let me see," he said. She handed him the textbook and pointed at what she confused about: thermodynamics.

"Thermodynamics? Grace, what are you doing looking at thermodynamics?" he asked, looking back up at her with his forehead wrinkled in confusion. She shrugged, not making eye contact with him. He wiped his hand over his face in mild frustration. She never did anything without having a solid reason behind it, and he knew she was just trying to be difficult.

"Come on," he said. "I'm trying to work on my suit."

"I'm just trying to learn," she said defensively, though not angrily. He sensed the slightest bit of hurt in her voice, and he instantly felt a pang of guilt hit him hard in the stomach. He reached out and put a hand on her knee, the warmth of her skin beneath his hand.

"Hon, what's wrong?" he asked more gently.

"You have grease on your hands," she said absentmindedly, staring at his hand on her knee. He rolled his eyes.

"Seriously?" he asked. "I'm always covered in grease and shit, and you choose now to complain about it?"

"Actually, I always complain about it," she replied reasonably. "You just don't pay attention to when I complain."

"Hmmm. True," he admitted. Then he took his hands and wiped them on the back of his jeans, triumphantly smiling at the agent and feeling secretly pleased by the disgusted look on her face.

"You like those jeans," she said, her voice sounding almost horrified.

"It'll come out in the wash," he said with a shrug. "Hey. Tell me. What's wrong?"

"I just…you know…like being prepared," she answered vaguely without looking him in the eye again. "The more I know about things, the more useful it'll be to get out of a situation when I need to."

"You're doing this to improve your survival skills?" Tony asked. He shouldn't have been surprised. Grace's sense of self-preservation was outstanding. He'd never seen her in action when he fought, but he knew that she was a force to be reckoned with because she was only sent on the missions where SHIELD feared that the agents wouldn't come back alive. He hated and loved that part of her all at once. She was basically guaranteeing him that she would do her best to survive, but she was also sent on missions that continuously tested that aspect of her. He would prefer her to be alive, untested, and naked.

He blinked, trying not to focus on the thought of her naked.

"I guess," she replied in a forced nonchalance.

"You're ok," he whispered against her knee and kissed the soft skin of it. He felt her jump at the feeling of his goatee against her bare skin. He smiled and kissed her again. When he glanced up at her, he saw the agent's eyes were bright, and she was sitting very still. That was all she needed to hear sometimes; the comfort of his words rained down on her, and she felt the tension leave her muscles. Whenever she came back from a mission, she was always on edge, and she knew that this time around was a little worse due to the worst injury that she'd had to suffer yet. Nothing made her feel better than hearing Tony say what he just did. She leaned down to him then and took his head in her hands.

"I love you, Anthony Stark," she whispered fiercely. Tony usually hated whenever anyone called him by his full first name, but he loved the sound of it in Grace's throat. Her voice said it softly as if she were caressing it in her mouth. His name was said with affection behind it, and he wanted her to say it again.

"Say that again," he murmured.

"I love you, Anthony Stark," she repeated. He tilted his head back slightly more in her hands, lightly skimming her lips with his. She loved light kisses, and she was still beneath his touch as he carefully touched her lips again. Her tongue darted out to meet his, and then his mouth was fully on hers.

"What's your call name?" he asked, suddenly breaking the kiss to pull back and stare at her. A frown wrinkled his forehead, and Grace found herself gently smoothing it with her fingers.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked. He shrugged.

"I know that Natasha Romanoff is Black Widow," he said. "Don't all agents have cool call names or something? Besides, I know your middle name, Miss Grace Elizabeth Marks."

"My middle name is generic," she answered in a monotone.

"Yeah, that's still not telling me your call name," Tony replied in a bored tone. Grace sighed and tightened her grip through his hair, forcing his head backwards. She maintained eye contact with him as she lowered her face to his. Her mouth touched his lips, but she wasn't fully kissing him.

"Scorpion," she answered in a dangerously sexy voice that made Tony's throat tighten.

"Scorpion, huh?" he asked weakly.

"Mmhmm," she said, the vibrations of her answer numbing his mouth. He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe slowly. God, she was always doing this. Why did he have so much work to get done? He opened his eyes and stared back at her.

"That…is so sexy," he replied. She smiled against his mouth, and he groaned audibly.

"You have no idea how badly I want to just take you and have you on the floor of this lab right here, right now," he said huskily, the lust blatantly exposing itself in his voice. He winced as his erection painfully pushed against the teeth of his jeans. Reaching down, he adjusted himself and looked back up at Grace, who was looking down at him with an interested expression.

"Go back to work," she said. Tony's eyebrows rose.

"What?" he asked.

"Go back to work. You have a lot to do on that suit, and I'm going to study," she said. He exhaled loudly and put his hand over the textbook, taking it from her and shutting it before setting it on the floor beside him.

"Honey, don't do this to yourself," he said. "You just got out of the hospital, and technically, you're not supposed to be reading. Straining yourself is only going to hurt your brain, and then you'll be back in the hospital."

"I'm not doing anything to myself," she replied.

"Um, yeah. You are. You're driving yourself crazy to learn all kinds of skills that you think will keep you alive," he said. She frowned.

"They _will _keep me alive. The more I learn and get into my brain, the more information I can access to get me out of a situation should I need to use it," she said slowly. He ran his hand over his face again. It was always like this whenever she came back from a mission. Always.

"This is getting obsessive. You've been reading that textbook for the past 24 hours. I don't see how sitting and reading a textbook is going to improve your skills. Can you honestly say you've gotten something out of it?" he asked.

"Yes," Grace snapped.

"You don't think it's a little out of hand that whenever you come back from a mission, you go on a crazy information binge to see what you can learn to save you for the next mission?" he demanded.

"No. No, I don't. It's keeping me alive."

"I hate watching you beat yourself up over shit like this."

"I'm not beating myself up!" she suddenly shouted.

"Fine," he said, raising his hands in defeat. "I give in."

"Tony—" Grace started, but he held up his hand, silencing her.

"Grace, you think that you're saving yourself by trying to absorb all of this advanced information for future reference, but that's going to be what kills you in the end," he said. There. The words were out. He couldn't turn back now. He braced himself for Grace's outburst, but instead she just blinked at him.

"Why are you mad at me?" she asked, and then it dawned on him that she really didn't understand why he was upset. He shook his head in frustration.

"I don't know, Grace," he said. "Maybe you should think about what you're doing when I'm the one who starts having to be the responsible one."

When he saw the wounded look on her face, he knew that he'd won, but he didn't feel any better. In fact, he felt worse. A victory that made you feel like a hypocrite wasn't a victory worth having at all.


	11. Immortality

**Shoutouts to Vanillamarilla, m9ower, and akt15! Guys, please keep sending your thoughts on whether or not you support a Stemma sex scene. So far, I've gotten one person saying yes, if done the right way. Please let me know what you want because I'll go with what the majority says =)**

**There was some confusion about why Tony was mad at Grace. I tried to go more into it this chapter, but if I didn't, I'll go ahead and explain up here. Whenever Grace comes back from a mission, she's really paranoid about staying alive, and she basically studies her ass off. Think about it like this: how she deals with her need to stay alive by reading as much as she can about everything is how Tony deals with his PTSD after New York in Iron Man 3. Also, if you read Survival Skills, she watched Tony as he worked, and she was able to learn how to reboot his suit just by watching him. So she tries to learn and study everything she doesn't understand in case she may have to use it to get her out of a mission alive. I hope that makes sense! Sorry for the confusion. Hopefully, this chapter will clear some things up. This is a SUPER long chapter, so I hope y'all don't mind! Sorry Stemma shippers, this is more of a Trace chapter, but Stemma will be back in action next chapter =)**

* * *

Chapter 11

"Sir, Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes is here," Jarvis announced. Tony looked up at the ceiling with a death glare.

"I said no visitors," he said.

"He's not here to see you, sir. He's here to see Agent Marks, but he would like a word with you," the artificial intelligence coolly replied. Tony sighed ferociously and nodded his consent.

"Fine," he snapped. Ever since his fight with Grace, he'd been even more determined to get the suit finished. Thanks to several hours of sheer determination, it was close to being done, but he still wasn't happy with it. He stepped back and eyed it disdainfully, as if the suit were to blame for the fact that his ideas weren't as plentiful as he'd hoped they would be. It wasn't even that that was the problem; the suit was overflowing with new weapons and features that he'd never had on a suit before. The suit should've been perfect, but he still was displeased with it, and he couldn't place a finger on what it was that was displeasing him.

The door to the lab slid open behind him, and he heard Rhodey walk in.

"Hey, man!" the Lieutenant Colonel greeted. Tony mumbled a response back as he continued to stare at the suit.

"Oh, that's cold," Rhodey returned cheerfully. "I just stopped by to see Grace and see how she's feeling. Is she doing ok?"

"No, she's not," Tony answered.

"What? I thought she was ok," Rhodey protested, his voice rising in surprise and concern.

"Did you really think that SHIELD would release one of their top agents if she weren't ok?" Tony asked, moving forward to the suit to tighten a bolt on the back part of the left heel. He ducked under some hanging metal to get to the back, wincing as he contorted himself. He could practically hear Rhodey's thoughts as Rhodey tried to count to three before responding with something that would make Tony angry. People always had to treat Tony as if he were a little kid who needed that much patience.

"I was only asking," Rhodey finally said.

"And I was only answering," Tony replied.

"Ok, man. How's the suit coming along?" At Rhodey's question, Tony turned his head to answer, but he wound up smacking it into the hard metal by his right temple. His vision clouded for a few seconds as the pain spread across his skull.

"Goddammit!" he shouted, dropping the wrench in his head. "Fuck!"

He carefully backed out of the metal confines and rubbed his head, all the while glowering at the suit in front of him. _Fuck you, suit_, he thought to himself.

"What's the matter with you?" Rhodey asked. Tony shot him an expression that made Rhodey feel he would've been dead if looks could kill. The billionaire engineer crossed to one of his work stools at a nearby table and sat down as if all the energy had drained his body. He glanced over at Rhodey and saw his best friend standing there with his arms folded and a frown on his face as he stared at Tony. Tony slowed the motion of his hand over the spot where he'd banged it, wincing as the pain slowly began to subside. Fucking suit.

"Well? Are you gonna answer me?" Rhodey's voice brought Tony back to Earth.

"I'm fine," Tony snapped.

"Bullshit, Tony. You're in one hell of a bad mood. What, you get in a fight with Grace or something?" Rhodey asked, purely guessing. Tony's glower answered him.

"Ah, I'm onto something," Rhodey said with a grin. "You're fighting with your girl as soon as she gets out of the hospital? Come on, man."

"It's complicated. Besides, I never said that we were fighting."

"You didn't have to say it. It was written in that visual death promise you sent me when I suggested it."

"Um, I didn't say it, so you're invalid."

"So what was that glare for?"

"Wait, is this where the cameras come out, and I realize that I've secretly been on Dr. Phil this whole time?" Tony started glancing around the room as if he were scanning for cameras. Rhodey narrowed his eyes at the dark-haired genius, wondering if Tony were being serious or not. It was always so hard to tell whenever he was joking.

"Tony," he said.

"What? We're fine. I'm fine. She's fine. We're fine," Tony repeated adamantly.

"If you were fine, you wouldn't be in a nasty ass mood."

"Am I not allowed to have off days?"

"Tony, sometimes dealing with you is like dealing with a bipolar teenager," Rhodey sighed with an eyeroll. Tony ran a hand through his hair the way he always did whenever he was deep in thought, annoyed, or frustrated. He looked at the rest of the suits he'd built, and he wondered why this suit was bugging him so much. He looked down at his hand and saw that it was covered with grease, thereby signifying that he had grease in his hair. Usually, he hated getting shit in his hair, but he was so used to having grease making his hair mat together whenever he worked that he didn't mind it.

"She's been studying my old textbooks. Whenever she comes back from a mission, she goes research crazy trying to store as much knowledge in her brain so that she can use it if she ever needs it to save her," he admitted quietly.

"That's a bad thing?" Rhodey asked, the volume of his voice matching Tony's. Tony looked up at his best friend with squinted eyes and nodded slightly.

"She's not supposed to be reading because of her concussion. Didn't get any sleep last night. I know she brings up all kinds of bad things in her head whenever she starts studying like that. It's like her brain is wired or something. And on top of that, her emotions are off the wall because of said concussion and the meds that she's on," he replied. "We fought about it earlier when she asked me to explain something from my textbook to her."

"Tony, you've gotta trust her," Rhodey said evenly. Tony's dark brown eyes bored into his, and for a brief moment, Rhodey was mildly afraid that he'd overstepped some boundaries, but then Tony nodded the tiniest bit.

It wasn't like he _didn't _trust Grace. He trusted her more than he trusted anyone, even Pepper. He knew that she'd be able to get herself out of anything because she was that good of an agent, and honestly, her studying things that she didn't understand would only help increase her skills. He just hated seeing how paranoid she was whenever she came back from a mission, how she'd scan over the pages with glazed eyes as if her life depended on it. If anything, she was keeping her survival instincts stimulated instead of letting them calm down.

"She's upstairs somewhere, I think, if you want to see her," he said, changing the subject all together. "Jarvis, what room is Grace in?"

"None, sir," the artificial intelligence replied. Tony paused, allowing the information to sink in. He tilted his head back towards the ceiling and squinted his eyes at Jarvis, knowing full well that he could see him.

"What do you mean 'none'?" Tony demanded.

"Agent Marks left about half an hour ago, sir," Jarvis answered.

"You didn't think this was something you should mention to me?" Tony spat, his voice rising in anger.

"You said that you didn't want to be disturbed, sir."

"Did she say where she was going?"

"No, sir. However, she did ask me the whereabouts of Captain Rogers, and I informed her that he was at the SHIELD hospital. Right after I divulged the information to her, she left. I can only assume that she's going to the SHIELD hospital," Jarvis said calmly.

"Does it never occur to you to sometimes break the rules I set, such as the one where I tell you that I don't want to be disturbed?" Tony asked, keeping his voice low as he struggled to calm the panic rising in the back of his throat.

"Sir, you programmed me to follow your orders exactly. I am only here to please you," Jarvis said, the slightest bit of sarcasm dripping into his voice.

"Why does she need to find Captain Rogers?" Rhodey asked. He was aware of the discovery of the superhero, though he'd been sworn to secrecy about it. He unfolded his arms as Tony rushed past him.

"That's what I'm trying to find out," Tony mumbled. "Come on. Let's go."

* * *

Steve was one motherfucking good luck charm because he had escaped unscathed. Emma, thankfully, was also surprisingly unscathed. She'd been knocked unconscious by the force of the explosion, and she'd suffered a cut on the side of her face, but she was otherwise ok. The nurses said that the cut would heal, and she wouldn't have a scar at all. Anxiously, he sat at her bedside waiting her for her to wake up, somehow feeling as if this were all his fault.

The explosion had come from the building next door, a gas leak in an old restaurant that had amazingly been closed for the day. No one in the immediate building had been injured, but a few other people from the building on the opposite side had been taken to the civilian hospital just to be checked out so that everything was safe and in the clear. He and Emma would be ok.

As soon as the explosion had happened, and it'd registered in Steve's brain, he'd leapt toward Emma, wrapping his arms around her and sending her down to the ground in a tackle. The heat from the explosion had warmed his back to an uncomfortable temperature, but he was unharmed. If he hadn't tackled Emma, she would've been in a lot worse of a condition.

His chest was tight as he thought about what could've happened to her. Felicia, the blonde nurse who he'd realized was one of Emma's friends, had explained that Emma could have been severely injured. Steve was lucky because he healed so quickly, thanks to the Super Soldier Serum. As he gazed at Emma, her unconscious form lying so peacefully in front of him, a white bandage decorating the side of her face, he realized just how important she'd become to him. If anything had happened to her, it would've been like waking up in a whole new century again, and he wasn't about to let that happen. The force of acknowledging the fact that he needed her was crippling, and the emotions welled in the back of his throat.

Ever since he'd been allowed into the room with her, he'd wrapped his hand tightly around hers just so he could feel the warmth that reassured him she was still alive. The irony didn't escape him; the nurse was the one in the hospital bed, and the former patient was the one watching over her. He knew that he was desperately overreacting to her condition because she really had gotten out of it with only a scratch, but it had been enough of a wake up call for him. It'd forced him to realize a lot of very important things about how he felt for her.

"How is she?"

Steve jumped at the sound of the voice behind him, and he turned. Standing inside the room was Agent Grace Marks. She was dressed casually in black skinny jeans and an old MIT hoodie. Her long brown hair was down and loose, and she was staring at him with that unnervingly blank face. He shifted uncomfortably beneath the steady glow of her light amber eyes and wondered how long she'd been there.

"She's ok," he said, glancing back towards the hospital bed that held an unconscious Emma. He turned back and watched warily as the agent walked further into the room, her arms folded across her chest.

"How long have you been here?" he asked.

"Not long," she replied.

"You're good at being quiet," he said. Her mouth spread into a wry smile.

"Typical SHIELD agent," she said. "She's a good nurse. She always brought me Jello." Her gaze focused back on Emma.

"Cherry?" Steve asked. Grace nodded without her face changing.

"Yeah. Everyone likes cherry, she said," she replied. Steve smiled as he remembered all the times that Emma had brought him cherry Jello. She was a good nurse, that was for sure. She'd taken such good care of him, even though he hadn't been injured. She'd gone out of her way to introduce him to everything he needed to know about technology, and in the meantime, she'd caused him to fall for her.

"You didn't tell me that you're with Tony Stark," Steve said, changing the subject. Grace's amber eyes flicked back to make contact with his. She was quiet for a few moments, and Steve's level of discomfort rose as he remained under her scrutiny. Fury had said that he'd have a lot he wanted to talk about with the agent, but so far, all he could really get was that she was blocked off to him.

"My relationship with Tony has nothing to do with my business with you," she said, dismissing it finally.

"What business are you talking about?" Steve asked. Grace sat down in the chair opposite of Steve, readily making herself at home in Emma's hospital room. She didn't say anything for several long moments, and Steve wondered if she'd heard him. She was looking at Emma without really looking at her, her thoughts a thousand miles away from where she physically was.

"Can you die?" she asked. The surprised look on Steve's face amused her as she sat back in her chair and watched him process the question that she'd just asked him. She'd been wanting to ask him that question ever since she'd discovered that he was in the same hospital as she was. She'd tried to broach the topic when she'd sent Tony to get the hoodie, coincidentally the same one that she was wearing, but she hadn't had enough time.

"Are you asking me to die?" Steve asked, his voice perplexed.

"No. What I mean is, are you _capable_ of dying?" she asked, deciding to rephrase her question. She waited patiently as he struggled to find something to say, clearly thrown off by what she was asking him.

"Aren't we all?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "I've been pretty good at escaping death so far, and it's because of the Serum."

Steve's blue eyes widened as he understood what the amber-eyed agent was implying. He frowned as the impossibility of her words sank into him. Everyone died. No one was immortal; it wasn't possible. Everyone's body gave out at some point, and sometimes, especially in a field that risked lives such as the field she was in, the body was forcibly shut down.

"I don't think my Serum has given me any such powers," he said slowly. Grace blinked at him.

"Captain, my skills aren't typical skills. I have a heightened survival instinct. I can sense when my attacker is about to strike, and I can deflect any hit or kick. I can make a raft out of three aluminum cans and a bunch of palm tree leaves without knowing a damn thing about how to make a raft. I will do whatever it takes to survive," she said, her voice dangerously quiet and serious. The only other person that she had ever talked about her skills with was Tony; he was the only one that she trusted enough to talk about them with because she knew that he would never try to take advantage of her and hurt her with that knowledge. She was telling Steve because she knew he could relate somehow.

"The only times I've ever been seriously injured was this past mission and then when I was taken captive in South America for several years. I was shot in the head," she said calmly. Steve's eyes were wide as he stared at her.

"What?" he asked. She nodded.

"My captors thought I was dead because I was knocked unconscious for three weeks. My brain healed itself, I guess. You can imagine their looks of surprise when they saw that I wasn't dead."

Steve swore that he almost saw a flash of amusement cross her mouth, but she still wore her expressionless face, and he wondered if he'd imagined that brief change.

"I've never been put in any kind of situation like that," he said slowly.

"Sure you have," Grace answered cheerfully. "How else do you think you survived your time in the ice? No regular human being could've gotten through that alive. No regular human being could've been shot in the head and lived to tell the tale. But here we are, Captain."

Steve blinked at her, letting her words sink into his brain. Ever since he'd regained consciousness, he'd wondered how he'd survived it. She had a point: no regular human could've survived being trapped in that ice for so long. He frowned at the agent as she sat calmly across from him, surveying him with her strange as fuck eyes.

"How'd you injure yourself on your last mission?" he asked. She blinked.

"Carelessness. I leaned against a railing, and it broke, sending me plummeting off the side," she said with a shrug. "I was aware that it was loose."

"So why did you lean against it?" he asked.

"Why do you think I'm here?" she countered. And it hit him. She didn't need to say it, but he knew exactly what she was implying.

"You think we can't die," he said slowly. She shrugged.

"I don't know," she said. "It's been pretty damn hard to kill me so far. I'm not saying it's impossible. I'm just saying it's something to think about."

"Maybe we don't die not necessarily because we can't, but because we don't want to," Steve said. Grace sat still, and she looked at him with a new look. It didn't show on her face, of course, but she looked at him with a new consideration. Because of her upbringing, she wasn't afraid to say that she was an expert on Captain America. She'd listened to her parents talk about him for years, and they'd exposed her to every little detail about him. As she sat across from the superhero that she knew as well as she knew herself, she chose not to disclose this information to him because he might find it weird. She was glad to see that despite the gravity of the situation, she was able to find some humor in it. But she thought that she'd known him inside and out, but after that comment, she knew that she didn't know a single about him at all. She knew what could be written down, not who he was.

"Captain, I think we have a lot more in common than I originally thought," she said brightly.

"Steve," he said. "You can call me Steve."

"You can call me Grace," she said, and suddenly, to Steve's surprise, she smiled. It was a genuine smile that accentuated her sharp features, making her look younger than he'd seen her look in the past few minutes that she'd been sitting in front of him.

"Agent Marks?" Grace turned to face the voice that had spoken in the doorway. It was the blonde nurse who had helped get her stabilized when she'd been brought in for her concussion.

"Um, Mr. Stark just arrived at the building, and he's, um, looking for you," the nurse said nervously.

"How mad was he?" Grace asked calmly, appearing to be unfazed by the nurse's news.

"Pretty mad," the nurse replied with an apologetic smile.

"Ah, perfect!" Grace answered brightly. "Well, Steve, this is my cue. I'll be seeing you again."

She didn't wait for an answer from him, instead walking out into the hall, steadying her breathing to prepare for her confrontation with Tony. She wasn't about to put it past him to cause a scene at the hospital; she knew he would if he were angry enough. She calmly took the elevator down to the lobby. When the doors opened, she was greeted by Tony Stark and Rhodey in front of the security check as they both were attempting to remove the suits. She smirked to herself. Of course Tony would be really dramatic and show up in the suit. It served him right that security wouldn't let him in the hospital if he would take the melodramatic route by arriving in the suit. He didn't do anything simply like a normal person would, but she loved him for it. Though, in all honesty, she could've lived without the dramatics today.

Tony's dark head lifted, and his heated brown eyes set on her. She smiled and waved at him, knowing that it would only infuriate him. She was right. He immediately launched a verbal attack.

"Do you know what it's like to have your artificial intelligence inform you that your girlfriend who was just in the hospital LEFT WITH NO WARNING?" he demanded as she neared him.

"No, I don't," she replied coolly. "Hi, Rhodey."

"Hi, Grace. How are you feeling?" Rhodey asked.

"I've been better, but I'm doing ok, thank you," she answered with an eager smile. She'd always liked Rhodey, even when he'd been suspicious of her during her undercover stint as Greyson Marcussen, world renowned engineer who was helping Tony Stark design his new suits.

"Um, hi, honey," Tony said sarcastically, waving his hand to gain her attention. Her amber eyes flicked back towards him. "Ok, now that you and Rhodey have exchanged your pleasantries, I mean, good for you guys being all buddy-buddy and everything—"

"Tony, I'm not doing this here," she interrupted.

"Um, yeah, we're not doing this here. Security wouldn't let us past with our suits."

"So put it back on, and let's go," Grace answered. Tony glared at her, but within a few minutes, he and Rhodey were suited up again and ready to go. They walked outside, and Tony wrapped an arm around Grace's waist firmly.

"Hold on tight," he said, and she clenched her arms tightly around his neck, and they were in the sky. Even though she was Iron Man's girlfriend, this was only the second time that she'd gotten to fly with him. The first had been when he'd rescued her at his Expo last year when Vanko's drones turned out to be explosives. She didn't like the sensation of the wind whipping through her hair, and she was always afraid that something was going to happen, and she wouldn't know how to save herself. She squeezed her eyes shut and ignored the cold of the wind slapping against her skin.

Thankfully, the flight from the hospital to the Stark Tower was short, and her feet were on solid ground. She stumbled as she tried to regain her bearings. Tony looked at her and rolled his eyes in either annoyance or amusement as she fell all over herself in attempts to keep the ground from rolling out beneath her.

"Where are your sea legs, sailor?" he deadpanned, only to be ignored by her. Rhodey had landed behind him, and when Tony's suit had been removed by his lovely robotics, they started in on Rhodey.

"I'll chill out here!" Rhodey called, standing still as the pieces of the suit were removed. Tony waved a hand at him and went to Grace, grabbing her arm to hold her steady. He helped her inside and onto the couch before turning to face her. His arms were folded across his chest, and his normally mellow brown eyes were blazing.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he snapped.

"Nothing," she said placidly.

"Grace, I'm trying to _help _you," he said sharply, almost pleading with her.

"I know," she answered quietly.

"Do you have any idea how much I worry about you?" he asked, running his hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I do," she said. He paused to look at her. "I know how much you worry about me because that's how much I worry about you."

"Hon, you worry me so much," he said. "I know I can't protect you because you do such a damn good job of it yourself, but can you at least let me know what you're doing so I can have your back?"

"Tony, you wouldn't have let me leave," she said irritably.

"One, you know I can't give you permission to do anything because you go ahead and do it anyway; and two, can you give me the benefit of the doubt?" he asked, returning her annoyed tone, his eyes flashing.

"You wouldn't have been ok with it," she rephrased.

"Try me. Let me in. Let me help you," he implored. Her mouth twisted to the side as he looked at her. She wasn't wearing her blank face, and he knew that that was some kind of progress. Instead, she looked sad and concerned as she gazed back at him. The light was hitting her amber eyes, only making them look lovelier. Yes, despite how strange he usually thought they were, he loved them because they were unique and made them her. It was because they were her eyes that made them lovely, even if they still made him feel weirded out every now and then.

"I know," he sighed out, and he sank down to his knees in front of her as if the energy had drained right out of him, reminding her of the same position he'd been in just earlier that morning right before they'd had their fight. Her heartstrings pulled as she saw the look in his face. He was letting the issue go; the resignation was right there in his chocolate brown eyes. He looked so worried, but he wouldn't be able to understand why she'd needed to talk to Steve. He had no idea about her theory that she couldn't die; she'd never told him that she'd been shot in the head in South America only to come out of it alive. She knew that he'd hacked into SHIELD's files and read all about her, but she didn't know if he'd read about that, or if it had even been listed in her files.

Guilt overwhelmed her as she saw how worn down he was. It hurt her to see him this way on his knees in front of her looking so exhausted when he was usually so tall and strong for her. He'd been worried sick about her for days, and then he'd been trying to work on his suit, and her studying worried him even more, and then she'd taken off, thereby further worrying him. She didn't regret anything that she'd done because it was all for the betterment of her skills or to fix something about herself. Truthfully, though, trying to fix the fact that she might not be able to die also affected her relationship with Tony. It terrified her to think that Tony would die, and she would still be alive. It terrified her to think that Tony would die trying to protect her—God knew he would even though he knew that she was more than capable of saying herself, but it was so like him to still do it—and she would still be alive.

To her surprise, tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at him. Everything was overwhelming when it came to Tony. She'd fallen in love with him after having known him for a week, for Christ's sake. That had been overwhelming enough in itself. But that was just the beginning. The need that she had for him was more than she could bear sometimes, and it scared her shitless. She'd always relied on herself; she'd learned to be self-sufficient from the time that she was four years old and had been forced to undergo the needle that made her who she was now. For someone who had relied on herself for so long, she was terrified to accept that she now relied on someone else just as much as she did herself.

The depths of emotion that she felt for the man in front of her were endless. She had never met anyone like him before. He cared about her, and he made sure she knew it every single day that he was with her. She found everything in him that she'd ever wanted. Without warning, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly to her. He stiffened in surprise, but then she felt his arms wrap back around her, nestling her against him. His breathing was slow and steady in her ear, and she could feel the metal of his arc reactor pressing against her solar plexus. Closing her eyes, she made sure to remember everything about this moment. She loved feeling how close he was to her, how real he felt against her. She need to know that he was real, her hands skimming through his hair and over his back as she touched him. She pressed her mouth to the area where his shoulder and neck joined.

"Grace," he whispered in her ear. "You're ok. You're ok, honey. I'm here."

And that was all it took for her to dissolve into tears. The heavy emotions of the past week settled into her body, and she finally broke as Tony held her. As much as he hated hearing the pain in her sobs, he knew that it was good for her to release all of it. He just held her tighter.

"I'm here. You're ok," he repeated over and over until it became like a mantra. If he couldn't do anything else, he would at least remind her that he was there for her like he always was. All the nights that he'd come back from a mission bloodied and bruised, she'd cared for him and held him, and he would do the same for her now. He always would. She was the world to him. She was his breath, his blood, and his bones. She made up who he was. Grace was his soul.


	12. Trust

**Shoutouts to maddieclaybourne, Loki'sdreamer, and akt15 for reviewing!**

**Sorry I haven't posted in forever! My aunt's in town, and I've been at the beach!**

**Uh oh, I think I upset some of you with my last chapter, so I have some explaining to do! As for the serum, yes, I'm taking HUGE liberties with it. Grace and Steve don't have the same kind of serum. It's SIMILAR but not the exact same thing. That's why Grace asks Steve if he thinks he can die. Special shoutout to maddieclaybourne for catching onto the aging part of the what-if-Grace-can't-die part! This is only a theory that Grace has. Nothing confirms or denies it; she just has a lot of experience from where it's been difficult for her to die. She doesn't have all the answers yet so she can't even explain how she's aging and not dying. Good job for catching it! I decided to add that in because it's going to play a significant part in the Avengers sequel. (HINT: Remember what Steve said to her about dying!)**

**As for Pepper and Tony, I didn't say that Grace meant more to Tony than Pepper did! I said that he TRUSTS Grace more than anyone, even Pepper. I've been wanting to include a Pepper segment in here, and after receiving a complaint that it's like I've written Pepper out of Tony's life, I felt like now was the time to do it so Pepper is back in this chapter! I'm sorry if I upset anyone over that =( I feel really bad!**

**Thank you for sending HONEST reviews! If you let me know the things you don't like, I'll try to either explain it or change it so if there's something you genuinely don't like, please let me know. If there's something you do like, please let me know, because that's just as helpful as well! Again, I'm so sorry it's taken me a long time to update. Hopefully this won't be an issue again. Please keep reviewing and letting me know what you think!**

* * *

Chapter 12

For someone who was a nurse, Emma sure hated hospitals. When she began coming to, the lights of the room were bright, and she slowly blinked hard, shutting her eyes and shielding them from the blinding light. She was mildly disoriented, but the memory of what had happened to her came back quickly. The explosion. Glancing down at herself, she could see that she was, indeed, in one piece much to her relief. A dull pain came from the right side of her face, but she was too tired to lift her hand. It was then that she noticed someone sitting on the left side of her hospital bed. Steve's blonde head was propped up in one hand, his eyes closed as he slept, and his other hand was entwined with hers. Surprised, Emma wondered how she'd missed that when she'd first woken up. His hand was warm and firm as it held hers, and it made her heart melt to know that he'd been sitting there holding onto her as she was unconscious. It made being in the hospital slightly more bearable.

Emma loved hospitals when she was a nurse. However, she hated them when she was a patient. Then again, who didn't? She felt like she'd reverted back in time, and she was 11 years old again, waking up to find that she'd survived the plane crash, but her parents were dead. She forced her breathing to stay even as she pushed the thoughts of her head with effort. She shifted slightly in the bed, and her small movement alerted Steve that she was awake. He jumped, snapping his blue eyes open.

"Hey," Emma said groggily. "Did I get hurt?"

The smile across Steve's face was so rewarding that she felt like she'd won a gold medal in the Olympics. Even though he'd been through an explosion, he still looked like the perfect all-American man with his hair still mostly in place and his blue eyes open and honest.

"You have a cut on your face, but that'll heal," he said, beaming at her. "How do you feel?"

"Sleepy but ok. Is the cut on the right side?"

"Yes, it is."

"Thought so. That's where it hurts. But that's it? That's the only injury I got from an explosion?" she asked. Steve happily nodded. "Huh. How 'bout that. Would you mind paging the nurse? I know they'll be dying to take my vitals."

Steve pressed the button on the side of her bed and sat back as the nurses and one of the doctors came in to check Emma. The nurses had a friendly rapport, easily bantering with Emma about how she was the patient instead of being one of them, how worried they'd been about her when she'd been brought in, and so on. Emma was going to be discharged because there was no other reason to keep her there with her vitals looking great. He sat silently watching her as she filled out paperwork. She'd changed out of her hospital gown and back into her regular clothes, and her hair was down, falling around her face in light wavy curtains. He'd never seen her hair out of her ponytail before, but he loved how it flowed so neatly over her shoulders. Her hair was thick and healthy, even managing to look lovely in the harsh glow of the florescent lighting of the hospital. He'd also never really touched her hair. It had brushed against his hands several times, but he'd never really felt it, and it looked so soft that he wanted to.

"Do you live far from here?" he asked. Emma shook her head as she looked over the form to make sure that she'd answered everything correctly.

"Not too far, thankfully. About a 10 minute walk in the opposite direction from where you live," she said. "No wonder the agents are always so cranky and wanting to get out of here; the beds are awful. I can't wait to be in my own."

She said the words so casually and offhandedly that she didn't think of how it'd affect Steve. She wasn't looking at him, therefore missing Steve's awkward face at the mention of her in bed. Steve wasn't the kind of guy who always had something sexual on his mind; he'd been brought up in a different time period where he'd been taught to be respectful of women and to see them as women instead of sexual objects. For the most part, he was able to succeed in keeping his mind out of the gutter, but something did it when Emma mentioned being in her bed. He uncomfortably shifted and looked away from her to hide his burning face.

"Ok, I'm ready. Are you ok?" Emma asked as she caught Steve looking around the room. He stopped and looked at her, flashing her one of his all-American smiles.

"I'm fine. Well, let's get you to your apartment," he said. Emma raised her eyebrows as she stood up, slowly easing out of the hospital bed. Steve hurried over and gently took her elbow in case she needed any help. The little gesture made her heart flutter. His hands were large and strong, but they were always so gentle and light whenever he touched her, amazing her at the different layers of complexity that existed within him.

"You're coming to my apartment?" she asked.

"I'm not letting you walk back by yourself," he said with a small frown on his face. As she studied him for the millionth time, memorizing every little detail about his features, she ignored the ever-present pang of guilt that began to grow stronger in her chest. The guilt would consume her, she felt. What if she didn't do what SHIELD wanted her to do? What if she told them no? She wasn't an agent; it wasn't as if they could _force_ her to do what they wanted. She wasn't obligated to follow through with it because she wasn't a Grace Marks. Still, she wasn't fully committed to finding out how SHIELD handled people who didn't follow orders.

"Ok," she said, and she allowed Steve to play the part of her hero, carefully walking with her and making sure that she was ok. Though really, he wasn't _playing _the part of her hero. He was her hero.

* * *

"Well, this is it," Emma announced proudly as she swung the door to her apartment open, pocketing her keys. Her apartment was smaller than Steve's, but she was paying for it herself, and it was nice in that small, cozy way. The apartment was decorated in such a way that Steve would've known right off the bat that it was Emma's. The walls were painted in a light color, and everything looked relaxing and calm, just like her. Her apartment was tasteful.

"It's nice," Steve said politely.

"It's home," Emma said. Without another word, she walked off to her bedroom. After a few seconds passed, she poked her head around the corner, looking back at Steve.

"Are you coming?" she asked. Steve's blue eyes became the size of saucers, but he nodded. She disappeared around the corner, leaving him a few seconds to himself. He'd never been in a female's room before, just the two of them. Hell, he wasn't even sure that he'd been in a female's room period. His heart was hammering loudly in his ears, and he was briefly afraid of Emma's hearing it until he realized that he was being ridiculous. Slowly, he began to move one foot in front of the other until he had reached Emma's room. She'd changed into a baggy t-shirt and shorts, and she was about to get under the covers.

"You look comfortable," he blurted out before he could think of anything else to say. Emma glanced up at him and smiled, giving him one of those smiles he adored on her. She lifted the light blue comforter and slid underneath, not seeming to notice how on edge Steve was. When she was settled, she caught sight of him still standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"You can come in," she said with a small laugh. "Feel free to join me here."

"Oh, ok," Steve replied, his voice coming out much louder than he'd anticipated. He nervously crossed to the opposite side of the bed and gingerly sat down on it, trying to lean back against the headboard instead of full out lie down the way Emma was. He consciously told himself when to breathe, inhaling in and exhaling out slowly through his nose. This was the most intimate with a woman he'd ever gotten, and his mind was going crazy. However, he did have to admit that part of him felt like it was right. Maybe that was why he was getting so nervous over it; he didn't want to mess anything up with the woman that everything felt right with. Finally, he worked up the nerve to look at her, and when he did, he was greeted by the image of Emma curled up on her side, both hands tucked under her face, staring up at him with her wide eyes and a tiny smile on her face.

"What?" he asked, giving her a sheepish smile. She shrugged as best she could in the position that she was in. Her hair was fanned out all around her on her pillow, again tempting him to run his hand over it, but he again quelled the urge.

"You weren't hurt in the explosion?" she asked in return. He shook his head, pressing his lips together in a line.

"No. It takes a lot to injure me," he replied.

"That can come in handy with the line of work you're in," she answered with an ironic smile. He nodded and shrugged half-heartedly.

"I guess so. What are you most afraid of?" The question had slipped out without his realization, and by the time that he noticed the surprised look on her face, he understood that he had, in fact, said it out loud. He decided not to take it back, though, because she didn't seem to be avoiding it.

"Hospitals," she said matter-of-factly.

"You're a nurse," he answered, genuine surprise entering his tone. She nodded against her pillow.

"That's why I became a nurse. To overcome my fear of it. When I woke up in the hospital after the plane crash to the news that my parents were dead, I always had this fear stuck deep down of hospitals. I figured that the best way to get over it would be to replace that memory with new ones that were less…traumatic," she explained factitiously.

"That's so noble," Steve replied. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head quickly with an embarrassed look on her face. It was clear that she didn't like compliments of that kind, and Steve could only relate to that. He hated whenever anyone had called him noble or a hero; in his opinion, he just did what he had to. He had a feeling that that was just what Emma was doing, too. She couldn't bear the thought of letting one memory in a hospital defeat her, and she'd proven it.

"What was Peggy like?" she asked suddenly, her voice instantly quiet and soft as she changed the subject. She'd been wanting to ask him that ever since she'd discovered that there'd been a girl, back before the explosion had happened. When she'd learned about Peggy, she hadn't been sure that she'd wanted to hear about her, but now she knew that she was. Even if it was just a little information, she wanted to hear something about this mystery woman. She saw Steve's face instantly still, and guilt flooded her veins as she thought that maybe it was too painful for him to talk about. She opened her mouth to take her question back, but he spoke.

"She was a leader," he said slowly as the thoughts began to form shape in his mouth. "She was English, so she was very efficient and clipped in everything she did. She didn't show her feelings very often, so it was a little difficult getting to know her. Simply put, she was intense."

Emma allowed the soft, tender tone of his voice to melt through her ears, focusing on what he was saying. She felt a twinge of something painful in her stomach, but she ignored it. Peggy was probably dead; there was no reason for her to feel so…so strangely. Yet she knew that it wouldn't matter if Peggy were dead as long as Steve still had feelings for her. His blue eyes were a thousand miles away, and she reached out her hand and lightly pressed her hand to his face. Her touch brought him back to her, and she could see his eyebrows furrow as he studied her.

"I never felt about her the way I feel about you," he said seriously and evenly as if he knew that that was exactly what he'd needed to say. His hand reached up to hers against his face, the largeness of his hand completely covering hers. Emma smiled despite herself; that was all she'd needed to know. Suddenly, she no longer wanted to know anything else about Peggy, and part of her hated herself for feeling that way. She'd wanted to know what her competition was, and now she knew that she meant more to him. God, she was a typical jealous girl, but she didn't care because he'd given her what she'd wanted.

"I just want you to be happy," she said quietly. And then he kissed her. He drew closer to her, supporting his weight on his right arm, still gently holding the hand that was against his face. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest due to the fact that he was the closest to her he'd ever allowed himself to get. His body was firmly against hers, and she could feel the strong, hard muscles beneath his shirt. Her hand drifted down his face, down his neck, and stilled as it reached his stomach. She was highly impressed by his musculature, and she smiled against his mouth.

He stilled as her hand rested suggestively on his stomach, his mind racing. Everything his mother had told him about love and sex came rushing back into his head at that instant. He pulled away to scan over Emma's face. Her sea-colored eyes were bright with something different than he had seen from her before. The need shone through clearly, urging him to continue. He'd never seen her look more lovely.

A new, deep hunger coursed through his veins, and he lowered his mouth to hers again, pressing her tightly against him. The way her body fit to his was as if they were two missing pieces of a puzzle, and he noticed it immediately. Her hands were on his face, and he was on top of her before he realized it, his right hand drifting down the side of her body. His breathing grew heavier as he kissed her.

"Steve," she whispered intensely, her breath rolling sweetly into his mouth. Her hands were drifting lower with a new kind of urgency, and she began undoing his belt buckle. He froze, his eyes wide open as he frantically understood what was happening. Instantly, Emma seemed to realize it because she looked in his eyes and stopped.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out quickly. She blinked hard, and she shook her head, taking his face in her hands again.

"No, no, you're ok," she said reassuringly, ever the calming agent for him. He eased off of her, rolling off to his side and squeezing his eyes shut. What was he doing? What was happening to him? He didn't regret anything he'd done with Emma in the past minute; hell, he wanted to do more, much more. He wanted to feel the warmth of her bare skin in his mouth and beneath his hands as he moved over her. He wanted to kiss every part of her and understand every single inch of her body. He wanted that more than anything. To tell the truth, he had no idea what he was doing. He'd never done anything of the sort before, and here he was in Emma's bed with a strange, yearning ache in his pants, and he couldn't help but feel that everything was moving too quickly but too slowly all at the same time.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, too embarrassed to look at her. He felt her hand tentatively touch his chest, but he didn't tense up. He opened his eyes and saw her staring at him with that intense, sincere expression that showed every thought that went through her head, and he could see that she was very worried about him.

"You're ok," she said back to him. "_I'm _sorry. I should've been more cautious."

"No," he said quickly. "You're fine. It's just…you know. 1942 was a very different time than it is now, and I'm adapting."

He was grateful that he didn't have to elaborate more because Emma caught on immediately to what he meant. She nodded sincerely and reassuringly rubbed her hand over his chest. Nothing about her gesture was sexual; it was a genuinely reassuring motion that melted Steve's heart. If anything, it reaffirmed the strong feelings he had for her. She hadn't been angry with him. She hadn't embarrassed him. She hadn't pressed him for an explanation. She simply accepted it for what it was, the way she always did.

"Hey," she whispered and gestured to him with her head as she flipped over onto her side. With a grateful sigh, he followed suit, carefully conforming his shape to hers so that he formed a protective shell around her. Normally, this might've been strange, but it wasn't for Steve and Emma. It was only natural, and that's how he felt around Emma. Natural.

* * *

"Sir, Pepper Potts is here," Jarvis announced smoothly. Tony paused, blinking hard as he tried to remember if he'd had plans with Pepper that day but failing to remember anything important. Again. He let out a groan.

"Jarvis, was I supposed to meet with her?" he asked, racking his brain, completely confused.

"No, sir. She's carrying a fruit basket," Jarvis replied. Tony frowned. A fruit basket?

"Tell her I'll be up in three seconds," he said.

"Or not," Pepper said, closing the door of the lab behind her with a smile on her face. Tony noticed that she was, indeed, carrying a fruit basket. The familiar sight of his former personal assistant turned CEO made a smile creep onto his face. Pepper was always the first to take care of everything. She had been since day one, and he relied on her more than anyone in the world. Aside from Rhodey, she really was his best and oldest friend. He stood up and walked over to her to greet her.

"I brought one of those Edible Arrangements that Grace loves. I thought it might help her on the road to recovery," Pepper said, placing the basket on one of Tony's tables. It satisfied him to see that she still remembered he hated being handed things, though really, he had to admit that if anyone had to hand him something, he'd prefer it to be Pepper.

"So she gets fruit baskets, and I don't?" he asked with a frown, though it was clear he was teasing. Pepper's blue eyes sparkled as she laughed, shaking her head at him. She saw how tired he looked, but she knew better than to mention it. After working all those years as his personal assistant, she knew how to handle Tony Stark, and mentioning how tired he looked was usually one of the worst things possible when it came to him.

"She's appreciative," Pepper answered. "How is she?"

"Sleeping. She tires easily," Tony replied without giving much away. He wasn't about to admit that Grace had managed to get out of the Tower and walk all the way to the SHIELD hospital while still concussed. Admitting that he'd lost track of his wounded girlfriend wasn't exactly on his list of things to talk to Pepper about. He also wasn't even entirely sure how to explain it himself; Grace had clearly had business with Captain America, but she didn't want to talk about it with Tony, and he wasn't sure how to approach that. He hadn't asked her what she'd been doing at the hospital because she'd broken in front of him in a way that she never had before, and it simply hadn't been the most appropriate time.

"You always continue to surprise me," Pepper said suddenly, shaking her head and folding her arms across her chest with that same smile on her face.

"Surprise you?" Tony echoed.

"Yeah. Every time I think I have you figured out, I find out I don't. I never thought you were going to grow up and accept responsibility, and now here you are acting like an adult for once," she said with a teasing smirk. Tony rolled his eyes.

"Ok, I act more like an adult than you give me credit for," he replied. "Speaking of boring adult things, are you taking care of my company, or is it burning and failing as we speak?"

"I'm taking excellent care of it," Pepper answered good-naturedly. Tony had always loved that Pepper was confident in what she did. She'd never been afraid to admit when she was good at something. In fact, that was how she'd earned his respect. She'd never tried to act modest or humble about anything she was good at; she simply stated that she was good at it without bragging or putting on any kind of fake little humble show.

"You sure I shouldn't have given the job to Happy or someone else?" Tony asked. Pepper rolled her eyes.

"No, Tony," she deadpanned, but she clearly knew he was kidding.

"You should take a vacation," Tony said. "Go to Greece or someplace with a nude beach."

"Do you really think a nude beach is my speed, Tony?" Pepper asked, raising her eyebrows. Tony cocked his head to the side and twisted his mouth as he thought.

"Part of me says yes, and the other part says no," he answered.

"You'll never know," Pepper replied mysteriously. Not for the first time, Tony didn't put any sexual thought into his conversation with Pepper. He'd always thought of Pepper as his best friend, as someone he could talk to whenever shit got too tough. That feeling had only intensified ever since Grace had come into the picture. Grace was someone he wasn't about to fuck things up with, and he would never let her leave without a fight. If anything, his relationship with Grace had solidified the platonic feelings he had towards Pepper, and he was grateful for that.

"Hey. I know something's up. What's wrong," Pepper said, her mood changing from kidding to serious. In that respect, she was just like Grace; she could always tell whenever something was bothering him. He narrowed his eyes at her, contemplating lying and saying that nothing was wrong or coming straight out and saying what was bothering him. He sighed, shrugging.

"Grace went to the SHIELD hospital to see Captain America, and she's being secretive about it," he finally blurted out without beating around the bush.

"Tony, she's a SHIELD agent. She's supposed to be secretive," Pepper deadpanned.

"Well…yeah, but…touché," he conceded reluctantly. "I just think something's different."

"So talk to her?" Pepper said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, sounding mildly impatient. Tony felt a wave of fondness for his former personal assistant come over him; he'd heard that tone from her millions of times in the past, and it was reassuring to hear it again. With all the chaos that had occurred within the past week, he needed something familiar, and if he couldn't find it with Grace, he'd always be able to find it with Pepper.

"Good idea, Captain Obvious," he said smartly. Pepper raised her eyebrows.

"Do you want my advice or not?" she asked in a bored tone.

"Who said I wanted your advice?" Tony returned, his voice rising in pitch.

"Tony, you want my advice," Pepper answered.

"Well, I don't think I do now that you're being cocky about it," he retorted, clearly just doing it to spite her.

"Cocky? You want to talk about cocky right after you're doing telling me about all the bad guys you've taken care of without breaking a sweat?" Pepper replied, her eyebrows still raised as she knew her point was being driven home. Tony twisted his mouth to the side and narrowed his eyes at her.

"I'm a superhero," he said slowly and evenly. "It's what I do."

"And I'm Pepper Potts. Getting you out of trouble is what I do," she said. Tony didn't reply, signaling that she'd won but refusing to say it.

"If she trusts you enough to talk about it, she will," she said simply. Tony genuinely frowned as Pepper's words sank into his brain. Trust? Grace trusted him. Why was Pepper bringing up trust? There were no trust issues in his and Grace's relationship.

"What are you talking about? She trusts me," he protests. "She asks me to braid her hair when she wants it out of her face. She doesn't let just anyone touch her hair."

"You know how to braid hair?" Pepper asked, obviously surprised. Tony sighed impatiently, feeling slightly embarrassed by admitting that yes, he did know how to braid hair.

"Yeah, I know how to braid. My mom taught me when I was young," he said defensively.

"Why?" Pepper asked, her voice filling with confusion.

"I don't know, Pep. I don't know a lot of things, believe it or not—"

"I believe it," Pepper interrupted. He glared daggers at her.

"Can I finish?" he asked, his impatience rising. She nodded politely, flicking her blonde bangs out of her eyes.

"My point is," he said pointedly, "she trusts me."

"If you say so," Pepper said diplomatically. "Hey, I have to run to a meeting now to make sure your company doesn't, you know, sink or something. Tell Grace that I stopped by, ok? I want to come see her when she's awake."

"I will. Thanks for stopping by. Kind of like the old days, right?" Tony said with a half-smile. Pepper nodded, returning his smile. It really did feel like he was her boss again, and she was running around at his beck and call to some degree. She started walking out the door when she turned over her shoulder, looking back at him.

"And don't touch the fruit basket, ok?" she said. Tony shooed her out with his hands, watching as she left the lab. She was always reliable, one of the only people that he knew he'd be able to count on. He paused, letting her words process as he stood still, continuing to face the direction that she'd left. Grace trusted him. Of course she did. Yet he had a nagging doubt at the back of his head that hadn't been there until Pepper had mentioned it: if Grace trusted him, why wouldn't she tell him about why she wanted to see Captain America? If she couldn't tell him something because it was work-related, she usually didn't mention it, or she told him that it was work-related, and she hadn't mentioned anything of the sort. She was choosing to act all secretive about it, and it was worrying him.

She trusted him. She had to. She had to.


	13. Confessions

**Yay shoutouts for m9ower, Vanillamarilla, Loki'sdreamer! Your continued support means the world to me! Please continue to keep reviewing and helping me out. I want to make y'all happy, and your reviews tell me whether or not I'm succeeding!**

**We're kind of nearing the end, I think. I was wanting to get everything wrapped up by Chapter 15, and I think I might actually succeed in that. I might have to go one or two chapters over, but I'm almost finished with this one, and then it's on to the Avengers. Y'all have NO idea how excited I am to start writing that one. I have all kinds of ideas swarming around in my head, and I'm dying to get them down. **

**If you haven't read Survival Skills, and if you're planning on reading the Avengers sequel, I'd suggest reading it because the Avengers will be told with Grace and Tony as the main characters without sharing every chapter with Emma and Steve. Of course Emma and Steve will be in it, but the story won't be split between the two pairs the way that this one is. So if you're still going to hang in for the next one, it really would be beneficial to read Survival Skills because there's so much about Grace and Tony and their background (particularly Grace's) in it that it'd help a lot to read it.**

**Please let me know what you think of this chapter! Things are out in the open now so the tides are turning!**

* * *

Chapter 13

Tony could always tell that he was beyond exhausted whenever his vision got blurry. There was nothing wrong with his eyes; that was simply the way he'd always been ever since he was a little kid and would get so tired that everything would blur together in a swirl of colors. As he'd gotten older, his tolerance had grown, and now he could go several days without sleep before he had to rest. And so it was that night that he was down in his lab, surrounded by 17 different ideas for his next suit that he had to rub his eyes because he was having trouble focusing them on the paper in front of him.

He put his head down in his hands and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. He always hated it because it meant that he'd have to stop. Now that he was Iron Man, it signified that he was human, and he wasn't terribly fond of being reminded that he was, in fact, destructible. He let out what felt like the billionth sigh that day and continued to rest his head in his hands.

Everything was a mess, simply put. He wasn't satisfied with his suit, Grace was injured and hiding something from him, and Captain America's resurfacing was in the back of his mind. Deep down, he knew that he'd be forced to meet the man that had captivated his father's attention for most of his life, causing him to feel mildly sick whenever he thought about it. He had a thousand conflicting emotions on Captain America, though he'd never admit it out loud. As much as he hated to acknowledge it, he'd never fully gotten over his father's dismissive attitudes towards him, particularly when it came to finding the all-American superhero. Captain Rogers was simply another reminder that his father hadn't exactly cared about him, and he hated that fact.

He jumped slightly and inhaled sharply in surprise as a pair of hands took hold of his shoulders, rubbing them roughly in a much-needed massage. Even through his shirt, he could tell that Grace was the one touching him, and he exhaled slowly, giving her access to all the knots in his shoulders.

"Jesus, you should quit and become a masseuse," he groaned out. He didn't have to look at the agent to know that she was smiling at his words; he could feel her smile radiate from behind him.

"You'd be my only customer," Grace answered.

"I don't care. I'd pay you enough money so that people would think you're a high class hooker," he remarked, making Grace laugh. He wondered when the last time he'd really heard her laugh was, his heart aching at realizing it'd been a while. They were both quiet as she continued to rub out all the tension in his shoulders, Tony occasionally letting loose a groan of pleasure and relief whenever she worked out a particularly rough spot. All of his manly instincts were telling him to stop her from working herself too hard, but it really did feel good, and he let her finish what she'd started before she sat down next to him. His head still resting in his palms, he turned his head to look at her. She was wearing a plain white t-shirt of his over a pair of elastic-waist cotton shorts, looking more comfortable and well-rested than he'd seen her in days, much to his relief. Her hair was wet, telling him that she'd just taken a shower, despite how bleary-eyed and relatively sleepy she still looked.

"How long have you been up?" he asked. She shrugged, brushing the question off.

"Not long. How long since you've slept?" she returned. He shrugged, giving her a taste of her own medicine.

"Are you ok? Do you need anything?" he asked. She frowned and didn't answer him, the emotions showing on her face for once. Tony was quiet as she stared at him; he was used to being under her severely intense gaze. That part wasn't new. Countless times in the past year he'd looked up and caught her with those blazing eyes boring into him, so he wasn't thrown off by that. It was the feelings that were written across her face.

Anyone who knew Agent Grace Marks well knew that she didn't show her emotions at all, often describing her as a robot. She was a blank slate who didn't reveal anything. However, she let her thoughts cross her face whenever she was with Tony because she trusted him. Really, that was what told him more than anything that she trusted him. So he was stunned to see the clearness of her thoughts as if she'd scribbled them across her face in Sharpie.

"What?" he asked quietly.

"When did you become so serious?" she asked, her volume matching his, and it tugged at his heart to hear how sad she sounded.

"Did something happen while I was gone? You're just so…not like you," she murmured. He leaned forward, reaching his arms out for her. With a quick flex of his arm muscles, he had her nestled warmly in his lap, the scent of her shampoo wrapping around him like a rose-colored cocoon.

"I'm sorry, baby," he murmured as he gently kissed her temple. "You know it seriously freaks me out whenever you're injured, and this is the worst injury you've had yet. I thought you'd be happy that I was, well, acting my age."

"I'm happy when you're Tony," she replied, her lips brushing across his forehead. A few cold drops from her hair dripped onto his laced hands around her waist. He noticed that she'd lost weight from being in the hospital, and he could feel her bones sticking out only a fraction more, causing him to want to shove food down her throat so that she was back to normal.

"I just want you to be ok," he said simply. "I know that something's been bothering you, and I hate that it's upsetting you as much as it has been. I mean, on top of your constant studying."

"I haven't opened a book since this morning," Grace said.

"Gold sticker for Agent Marks," Tony replied with a smirk. "You're still not getting off the hook, though. I know when something's on your mind, and you can give me your cute little blank face as much as you want, but I wasn't a child prodigy for nothing."

"Ah, cockiness. Tony's coming back," she answered, returning his smirk. Tony rolled his eyes at her.

"Why is it that negative qualities are associated with me, according to you?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows at her and making her smile again.

"You should ask yourself that, not me," she answered, kissing him lightly on the nose. He tried to hold onto the frown, but he couldn't, and he wound up smiling at her. This was the Grace that he'd missed.

As soon as the thought had flashed through his mind, her face altered, returning to a serious expression that was deep in thought. She usually didn't keep anything from Tony if it wasn't work-related, but she'd kept this one a secret for a while. As she looked at his dark eyes, the depth of them only further accentuated by the tired, pallid look of his face, she finally made the decision to tell him what she'd been keeping from him for a long time.

"I'm afraid I can't die," she blurted out. Damn, it felt strangely good to say it out loud to someone other than Steve, the only other person that she'd shared her theory with.

"SHIELD's pretty good at testing that theory," he retorted. She shook her head adamantly and tightened her grip around the back of his neck slightly to show that she was serious.

"Tony, I mean it," she said. "I mean, don't quote me on it or anything because I haven't received any 100% evidence that I can't die, but I've had enough scares to make me question if I can."

Despite herself, she was relieved to see the scientist in Tony immediately leaping to work. She could practically see the gears in his head turning as he processed her words and thought of possible causes, solutions, formulas, etc.

"I kind of figured it was a bit difficult to kill you, seeing as how you're the agent that they send out on the most dangerous missions, and your survival instincts are killer—no pun intended—with the Serum on top of it. I mean, if you can survive a shot to the head, you're a little hard to kill," he said matter-of-factly. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"You knew I was shot in the head?" she asked. He made a face at her as if she'd said the most obvious and stupid thing in the world.

"Um, duh. Did you forget that the first night you came to monitor me, I hacked the _shit _out of your files," he said, a hint of smug pride sneaking into his voice. Grace wasn't sure if she were more impressed or surprised by his actions, a reaction that was usually common with whatever Tony did.

"So why do you freak out so badly when I get hurt?" she asked. His obvious face only intensified at her question.

"Come on, are you saying that I _shouldn't _be worried whenever I find out that you've fallen a distance off a building that would've killed a normal person? Please, I know you're hard to kill, but I don't think you're immortal," he scoffed. "There's an answer somewhere to the problem 'cause look, you're aging like a normal human. It just seems to be injuries that your brain is programmed to deflect."

"Steve said that maybe the reason I haven't died isn't because I can't but because I don't want to," Grace said slowly. She saw a twinge of something in Tony's eyes, but he quickly erased it. She'd been hesitant to bring up Steve's name because she knew how Tony got whenever the superhero was mentioned, but she needed to say it. He inhaled and exhaled slowly through his nose, nodding as he thought about it.

"The Serum is really in tune to what your brain wants, and your brain doesn't want to die," he said. "It's a very good theory."

"Is there a way to test it?" she asked.

"If by testing it, you're asking to die, I'd prefer we not test it," he remarked. She considered what he was saying, finally nodding in agreement.

"Ok, yeah, I'd rather not die right now," she said.

"Exactly. Besides, if you kicked the bucket, I'd have to spend the rest of my life with people like Rhodey, and he doesn't appeal to me in the sack," Tony quipped. A laugh bubbled out of her mouth, and he smiled to hear it again. Things were beginning to feel more natural again, and he relished in it.

"The rest of your life," she repeated as her laughter slowed, and Tony's words sank deep into her bones like the Serum had when she'd been injected so many years ago. Her amber eyes were large, and she tilted her head to the side as she stared at him, her intense gaze blazing over his skin.

"The rest of my life," he said solidly.

"Are you proposing to me?" she asked. He grinned and shook his head.

"Princess, you'll know when I'm proposing to you. You won't even have to ask if I am," he said cheerfully. Confusion flashed in her eyes, and she pursed her lips as she caught onto the _when_. He hadn't said _if_. He'd said _when_.

"So you're not proposing to me," she said.

"Not yet," he answered. "Jesus, give me some credit. I'm a little bit more of a romantic than you think I am."

"Says the guy who thinks that wearing a suit jacket over jeans is dressing up for a date," Grace responded with a smirk.

"They were _nice_ jeans," Tony protested, his dark eyes widening in self-defense.

"Whatever you say, Tony," Grace said with that same smirk on her face. Tony was reminded of himself, and he rolled his eyes.

"Now that you've interrupted me, I can't get motivated to do any more work so we might as well go upstairs to bed and watch some mindless TV or something," he said, swiftly standing up, holding her in his arms as if she were a baby. She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, and he began walking up the stairs, Jarvis turning out the lights behind them as they went to their room to spend the rest of the evening like a normal, quiet couple.

* * *

Emma was plagued with guilt the second that she woke up and felt Steve's arm loosely draped around her waist. She hadn't mentioned anything to him—well, of course she hadn't—but she'd had a voicemail on her phone from Agent Coulson asking for another update on him. Steve was breaking down barriers to adjust to her world, and here she was taking advantage of him. She rolled onto her back slightly and turned to face him.

God, she wished she'd never gotten involved in this. She wished that when Agent Coulson had pulled her into the debriefing and told her what he wanted her to do, she'd said no and walked out. She wished to God—if he even existed, and if she even believed in him—that she'd walked out in front of Tony Stark and all those agents. Her mind was clouded with turmoil as the blinking light of her phone, signaling another voicemail, taunted her from her nightstand. She leaned out and flipped the phone over so she wouldn't have to look at it anymore.

Even though she couldn't see the light blinking at her, she knew that it was still blinking, and she felt sick to her stomach as she thought about it. This whole goddamn thing made her sick to her stomach, and she almost would've preferred being in the hospital as a patient instead of being in the situation that she was in at the current time.

His blonde hair was tousled, and his forehead was wrinkled in his sleep, giving him the look of frowning. Without thinking, she reached out and brushed a few strands of hair off his forehead. He shifted and began blinking, his body tensing as it prepared for the stretch that would follow his regaining of consciousness. Emma felt slightly guilty for waking him up, but it was nothing compared to the guilt that weighed on her.

"Hey," she said quietly as she took the sight of him in, how beautiful he looked as he woke up next to her. His body was still gently tucked into hers, and she ached to feel his bare skin, his hands, as they skimmed over her. She turned away from him and stared at the ceiling.

"How'd you sleep? Do you feel better?" Steve asked. She hesitated briefly before nodding.

"I need to tell you something," she said, her words rushing out of her mouth before she could second think it and decide not to say it. She refused to look at him, but she could feel his concerned gaze piercing her. For the first time in her life, she felt truly naked in front of someone else.

"What?" Steve asked slowly. He'd never seen Emma like this before. When he thought about her, the first thing he associated with her was light, but the look on her face as she lay before him was dark. Something wasn't right, and he knew that what she was about to say wasn't good.

Finally, she turned to look at him, and she sat up, wrapping the blanket around her tightly as if it could protect her. He wondered if it was his imagination, or if she had tears in her grey-green eyes.

"I'm working with SHIELD," she said quickly. He went to say something, but she stopped him. "The day you woke up, they called me in for a debriefing and asked me to get to know you. They were concerned about your emotional state and knew that you wouldn't trust them and open up to them."

Steve's reaction killed her. The look on his face made her want to curl up in a hole and never come out again because she knew that he'd be hurt. She just hadn't expected him to look at her the way he did now. He looked completely crushed, and she knew that she was responsible for it.

"You started spending extra time with me because SHIELD asked you to," he said, stating it instead of asking.

"That was what they asked me to do," she said tearfully. "I genuinely did want to help you and talk to you because there's something about you that I've never found in anyone else before."

The struggle of what to do was evident on Steve's face, and Emma felt the wet tracks of tears as they rolled down her face. She put the heel of her palm and her forehead and tried to still her shoulders as they shook with the tears that wanted to come streaming down her face. She was doing a really bad job at trying to not cry.

"How am I supposed to know what's real and what's not when the one thing I thought was real turns out not to be?" Steve asked, seemingly more to himself than to her.

"Steve, I'm sorry. I can promise you that everything I've said to you and done with you has been real. That's been me," she said, the tears coming down her face even hotter and quicker. She rubbed them away with the back of her hand, determined that he not see her a mess, even though she was faltering. The pain in her chest felt like it was strong enough to split her. It wasn't because she was feeling bad for herself. No, it was because she was realizing how deeply she'd hurt the man in front of her, and there was no way she could take it back now.

"I need to go," he said abruptly. He stood up and began to walk out the door, but Emma jumped up and ran to him, grabbing hold of his arm. He froze when she touched him, and she could feel his muscles tense until they were as hard as stone. Quickly, as if she'd touched a hot stove, she dropped his arm and took a step back as she understood that nothing she could do that would be able to make him stay. He looked down at her with a pained gaze that made her hate herself more than she ever had, and then he was out the door and out of her apartment.

She stood still for a moment, wondering if everything had really happened before she went back to her bed and released the flood of sobs that she'd been holding back. What had she just done? She was supposed to feel better for having admitted it to him, but she only felt worse. Had she really done the right thing? Right and wrong, which had once seemed like only five shades of grey, had now turned into a hundred different shades of treacherous grey that refused to be defined or sorted into any semblance of a category.

The one person who seemed to see exactly who she was had just walked out her door, and she wasn't sure if she'd ever get him back. The pain tore at her chest, making her want to cut out her own heart if it meant that it'd hurt less than the pain she felt, than the pain she knew she'd caused Steve.

When she had cried until her eyes were as dry and gritty as sand, she knew what she had to do. Without a second thought, she grabbed her cell phone off of her nightstand. The first call she made was to Agent Coulson. The second call was for Felicia.

"Hello?" Felicia asked, sounding surprised to see Emma's name pop up on her screen. Emma could only imagine her blonde friend eating leftover pizza with her newest boyfriend of the week while curled up next to him watching reruns of _Friends _or some other comedy show that she loved.

"I need you to do something for me," Emma said urgently.

"What do you need? I'm in the middle of my coffee break," Felicia asked.

"You're still at the hospital?"

"Yeah, I'm working a double shift tonight. Em, what's wrong? Is everything ok?" The concern that filled Felicia's voice made Emma's chest tighten again, and she fought the tears that threatened to spill over again. So much for being dried up, she thought to herself.

"Everything's fine. I'm ok. I just need you to get me Agent Marks's phone number," she said.

"That's against the rules," Felicia said quietly. Emma knew exactly what she was asking Felicia to do, but she didn't care. She'd had enough of playing by the rules, and she was going to do something about it.

"Felicia, I need her number. Either you give it to me, or I'm walking all the way back to the hospital to get it myself," she said evenly, knowing that Felicia had never heard her get this firm with her before. Silence greeted her on the other end, and she wondered if Felicia were mad at her, but then her friend's quiet voice filled her ear and reminded her that she wasn't alone.

"849-384-1734. Em, I swear to God, if I get in trouble for this—"

"You won't," Emma interrupted. "Thanks, Felicia. I'll see you soon. Bye."

She hung up the phone before Felicia could argue with her or ask her for details. The last thing she needed to do was explain to someone what had just happened. She wouldn't be able to bear telling the truth of everything that had happened since Steve had woken up, let alone recounting what had happened only half an hour before. With shaking fingers, she hit SEND on the number she'd typed into her phone while Felicia had repeated it to her.

As the phone rang, she took deep, even breaths to calm herself.

"Hello?" Grace answered at the pick up. This was it. Emma closed her eyes and plunged forward.

"Hi, Agent Marks. This is Emma Carroll. I was your nurse at the hospital. Do you remember?" she asked, her voice calm and professional, not betraying the turmoil of emotions that were blowing around in her chest.

"Oh, yes! Yes, of course I remember you," Grace said.

"I'm sorry to disturb you at this time of night, and I know that this is a risky thing to ask, but I need to ask a favor from you." And as Emma told Agent Grace Marks what she needed from her, she knew that she'd officially reached the point of no return. There was no going back. Only forward.


	14. Passion

**Shoutouts to the lovely m9ower, maddieclaybourne, akt15, electrogirl88, and Isabella95! Yay, thank you guys for giving me lots of feedback! I love it =)**

**Ahem, I would like to point out that in Iron Man 2, the scene where Tony goes to apologize to Pepper after his party, he wears a suit jacket and jeans ;) That was what I was picturing him in. However, maddieclaybourne made the excellent point of saying that Tony wouldn't wear that on a date. If it were a fancy date out to a restaurant, I think he'd go all out because like she said, he's a snappy dresser. If it were a movie night out, I can picture him in a suit jacket and jeans. Classy but casual =)**

**Also, I received a question about how I'm going to fit Emma into the Avengers. Excellent question! Emma is going to be one of the SHIELD nurses that's on the helicarrier. I know that there were never any medical officials seen on the helicarrier in the Avengers, but surely there'd have to be some. These are superheroes about to go fight some bad guys, and they could get really banged up! So that's how Emma's going to be in the Avengers ^_^**

**Ok, y'all. This is the chapter you've all been waiting for. Let me know what you think of it. I want to know if you guys like it, don't like it, etc. It's probably not as...detailed as some of you would like, but I almost felt like it would be too (I can't believe I'm saying this) disrespectful to Steve to go into full detail. Yes, I care about respecting my characters even if they don't exist haha**

**Again, please send me reviews and let me know your thoughts!**

* * *

Chapter 14

When Grace got home, she opened the door and shut it quietly behind her, hoping that Tony would already be asleep. Her hopes would dashed to the pavement when she turned the corner and found him sitting in the living room area with the TV on while he fiddled with something. He was always fiddling with something. For a moment, she stood still and watched him as he worked with whatever the fuck it was he had in his hands. She loved taking every opportunity to watch him because he was so interesting. When he worked, his thoughts were pasted to his face as ideas poured in left and right, eventually becoming overcrowded in his brilliant brain.

"Hey," she called out softly as she entered the room. He didn't look up at her, still messing with the metal object, twisting at something will a screwdriver.

"Hey, hon," he said cheerfully. "What's the status of the mission?"

"Mission accomplished. Target acquired," she returned, grabbing a spot on the couch next to him. She sank down into the comfortable cushions, her thigh pressed against Tony's.

"Miss me?" he asked.

"No. Miss me?"

"Of course."

"You know I was lying, right?"

"Duh. Look at me. Of course you'd miss me. I'm gorgeous," he replied nonchalantly, meriting a laugh from her. When she looked up at him from her place in the cushions, she noticed Tony blinking extra hard the way he usually did whenever he was reaching exhaustion.

"You tired?" she asked.

"A little bit," he said vaguely, distracted as he finished twisting the screwdriver. "There we go. Done."

"What's that?" she asked, gesturing towards the thing in his hand. It looked a little like a bracelet, but she wasn't able to tell.

"It's on the way to becoming like, an adapter for the suit. Say I'm across the room, and I'm wearing this, the suit will detect it and assemble around me."

"I never know how you think this tech up," Grace said, yawning and stretching. She shifted her body so that she was lying on her back on the couch with her feet and lower legs on Tony's lap. She smiled as she saw that she'd captured his attention, his dark brown eyes drifting away from the metal in his grasp to the legs across his lap. He was a sucker for legs.

"I'd say you're feeling better," Tony said mildly.

"Why would you say that, Mr. Stark?" Grace asked playfully. His eyes finally met hers, a spark dancing in them, and she grinned at him. He set the bracelet on the coffee table across from him, and he readjusted his body so that he was on top of Grace, his face only inches from hers.

"It looks like you're ready to debrief me again, Agent Marks," he replied, his voice so low that it was almost like a purr. Just from pure reaction, her hips arched against him, and she felt the delicious length of his body above hers.

"You're ready for another debriefing so soon?" she answered, arching an eyebrow. She was met by Tony's lips on hers, soon travelling down her neck. He continued lower until he reached the waistband of her pants. With a quick flick of his hand, her pants button and zipper were undone, and then he'd removed both her pants and her underwear. She had to admit, he was the only guy who could remove someone else's clothes so smoothly and effortlessly. A few good things came from his days of being a former playboy, though she tried not to think about it.

Within seconds, his tongue was between her legs in that spot she loved, and she sharply inhaled as the pleasure embodied her. Yep. She was going to stay on that couch a little bit longer.

* * *

Steve's mind was numb as he sat in the dark in his small apartment at 3 A.M. He knew how cliché it was to sit in the dark in his small apartment, but he didn't care. He'd just gotten home after having walked around Central Park for the past three hours in futile attempts to clear his head, and he didn't want to do anything more than sit on his couch with his empty skull.

He should've seen it coming. Everything had been going perfectly, so perfectly that it had been too good to be true, and it had been. Even though the thoughts of Peggy still lingered in the shadows of his brain, he'd made the decision to focus on Emma. For the first time in his life since his mother had died, Emma had made him feel special again in a way that mattered. She hadn't cared about him because he'd been a superhero or a handsome man. She'd cared about him because he was Steve, and he had all of the tiny components that made him _him_.

Or so he thought. He'd thought all of those things until she'd blindsided him with her weighty piece of news that she'd been working with SHIELD all this time. He bitterly ran a hand over his face, wondering if he'd ever escape SHIELD. SHIELD was around him all the time, and he couldn't imagine ever being able to break away from them, especially now that he'd agreed to become a part of this Avengers Initiative that Director Nick Fury had spoken to him about.

Pushing himself to his feet, he cleared his head of the remaining thoughts. He'd just spent three hours trying to get rid of those thoughts; he wasn't eager to have them pouring back in just like that. His feet dragged the floor as the exhaustion seemed to set deep within his bones. Truthfully, he hadn't realized how tired he'd been until he'd sat down on the couch. The adrenaline of the past few hours drained out of him, and he desperately wanted to go to sleep.

As he turned the light on in his room, he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what was waiting for him. A trunk. The trunk hadn't been there when he'd left earlier that morning with Emma, and now it was there. He could feel his senses coming alive as he realized that someone had been inside his apartment and left it there. Glancing around him briefly and seeing no one there, he cautiously approached the trunk and opened it.

What was inside only surprised him even more.

It was his old stuff from 1942. There wasn't very much of it, seeing as he hadn't had very much in 1942, but the important stuff was there. His old leather jacket was on top, neatly folded and looking just as beaten up and weathered as it had the last time he'd seen it, and a handful of old shirts that he'd had back then were beneath the leather jacket. A few photographs of his childhood home and his parents were in the trunk, too, joined with several of his favorite paperbacks he'd always carried with him. A couple postcards from Bucky caught his eye, and he ignored the tug in his heart as he recognized the familiar handwriting. He wondered how many years Bucky had been dead now. He knew he always could've just done the math, but he chose not to; acknowledging the number of years that had gone by since Bucky had ceased to be would be too painful, and it would make his death real. Steve was already having enough trouble figuring out reality as it was.

It was then that he noticed the manila envelope with the SHIELD emblem on the front, smack dab in the middle of the thick cover. He frowned, reaching out and grabbing it. The file looked brand spanking new, completely out of place amongst the outdated pieces of his former life. He flipped open the cover of the file, and then he stopped breathing.

Peggy Carter's beautifully dark, mysterious face stared up at him from the manila envelope, and he realized what it was that he held in his hand. He was holding her SHIELD file. Part of him was screaming to close it and put it back in the trunk never to be opened again, but he knew he wasn't going to do that. Realistically, he was going to sit and read over every little piece of it that he could until he had memorized it.

Without moving anywhere else, he sat down on the floor and began to read. She'd stayed with SHIELD the rest of her life until she'd retired at the age of 56, choosing to remain in the United States instead of returning home to her native England. Ten years after Steve's disappearance, she'd married a man named Frank Sullivan, and they'd had two children. Frank had died three years ago; she was still alive.

He held the information in his hands as if he'd been handed a newborn baby. With a quick brush of air slapping his face, he shut the file and gently laid it back inside the trunk. He now knew what had happened to Peggy. She was still alive, and she'd gotten married. Jesus, she had kids. Before he could stop himself, he imagined what kind of mother Peggy had been, then as quick as the thought had come, he pushed it out of his head again.

Who had left this here? It was someone associated with SHIELD because Peggy's file was a confidential file, and this was all his old stuff that SHIELD would've had stored away somewhere. The apartment was SHIELD-owned, so whoever had the key had to have been connected with SHIELD. The only people who were directly related to him through SHIELD were Emma, Director Fury, and Agent Grace Marks. At the thought of Emma, a sharp heat of pain flashed through his heart. The devastated, guilty look in her eyes when she'd seen that he was really going to leave. The tears that ran like rivers down her face. Emma.

Emma.

Could she have?

Suddenly, he was out the door.

* * *

Emma hadn't been able to sleep at all, so she'd opted to stay awake watching her DVD set of _E.R. _Season Three. Even though she couldn't focus, it still made her feel a little less alone to hear the sounds of the TV filling her room. Even just seeing people—so what if they were on a screen—made her feel the tiniest bit more comfortable.

Pounding on the door made her jump what felt like thirty feet. Her heart leapt up into her throat, and her eyes were wide from the shock. Glancing over at the clock, she saw that it was almost 4 in the morning. For the millionth time, she thanked her lucky stars that she didn't have to go into work. She wondered when the next time she'd be called in would be. She hadn't been absent from the hospital for long, but in a way, it felt like she'd been gone for a thousand years, and she knew it would be strange going back.

She turned the TV off, quickly eased out of bed and rushed to the peephole on her front door, peering out into the hall. She gasped when she saw who it was and quickly undid the latch on the door. Swinging the door open, she stood still as she gazed at Steve in front of her. As much as she'd been hoping that he would return, she hadn't expected him to. To say the least, she was more than shocked to see him standing in front of her.

For the first time she'd laid eyes on him, he looked the smallest fraction of rough. His face was drained, and his hair wasn't all the way in place. The expression in his eyes showed sadness and pain, making the tears well up in Emma's eyes again. More than anything, she wanted to take away the pain that he felt and replace it with the happiness that he deserved. She wanted to take back what she'd done to him and have a fresh start without SHIELD having been on her ass about it.

"Was it you?" Steve asked quietly, his voice wavering slightly as he gazed at her. Her hesitation was enough answer for him.

"Can I come in?" he asked. She gave a strange gesture that he interpreted as a nod, and he carefully walked past her and into her apartment. She shut the door behind her and turned to face him, feeling the tiniest bit afraid of what he was going to do. Steve wasn't dangerous; she never believed for a moment that he was dangerous or that he would hurt her. In all honesty, she didn't know why she was afraid. Nonetheless, the tiniest bit of fear struck her deep down, the fear of what was going to happen with them next.

"How'd you do it?" he asked, almost a demand. Emma's flinch in the soft glow of her apartment made him hate himself because that was the last reaction that he'd wanted from her. She was hesitant, seeming fragile in front of him. Emma Carroll was anything but fragile, and he hated seeing her look like this.

"I called Agent Marks," she answered quietly, not breaking her eye contact with him. "I knew I wouldn't be able to do it without some help so I asked her to help me."

"Can't she get in trouble for that?" Steve asked, suddenly concerned for the strange SHIELD agent who'd approached him with questions about his mortality. He'd felt an odd sort of kinship with the agent since they'd had similar experiences with the Serum.

"She wanted to help me," Emma said, avoiding the question. He stared at her, and she stared back in silence.

"Why did you do it?" he asked.

"I wanted to fix things," she said slowly. Her voice shook as she answered, but he couldn't tell if it was because she was close to tears or because she was afraid of him. It killed him to see that she looked afraid of him, and he wanted to rush to her and take her in his arms and tell her that he wasn't going to hurt her.

"Did you read her file?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"It wasn't for my eyes. That was for you," Emma said quietly and sincerely. And then Steve couldn't feel anger anymore. Emma had been curious about Peggy, and she'd gone out of her way to get the file for him, and she hadn't even looked at it. He had no reason in the world to trust her after what she'd told him earlier that day, but he knew that she was telling the truth. He just knew. A swell of emotion rolled through him, nearly overwhelming him with the strength of it.

It was then that he knew he loved her. This woman in front of him was what he'd been looking for since he'd woken up in the SHIELD hospital, confused and alone. Hell, she was what he'd been looking for since he'd been born back in the 1920s. His chest ached as the thoughts pounded through his head, gazing at her. He'd never felt more complete or more himself with anyone than he did with Emma Carroll, even if she'd been working with SHIELD. Yes, he'd been hurt and completely blown when he'd heard that, but he knew sincerity, and he'd never seen anything more sincere than the look in her eyes right now. No one had ever done anything like this for him, and he couldn't imagine the trouble she'd gone through to get his old stuff to him and to get Peggy's file.

She'd given him all the answers because she was all the answers.

In a swift motion, he'd wrapped his arms around her waist, and he was pressing her hard against him as he kissed her. She was still as the shock of it hit her, but then she began to move, carefully touching him in return. She broke the kiss, pulling away only to look at him with a frown of curiosity on her face.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked tentatively.

"I love you," Steve said in a flash of words, leaving her gaping at him speechless. Her mouth was open, and her eyes were wide at his words. She closed her mouth and opened it again to say something, but she couldn't.

"What did you say?" she asked softly.

"I love you," Steve repeated gently, and he was kissing her again. She put her hands on his face and pulled back, her forehead wrinkling and tears in her eyes. He went to speak, but her stormy eyes reminded him of a hurricane, and he was quiet, simply taking the look of her in and memorizing it. He wasn't the kind to leap into things headfirst, but he'd skirted around this long enough. He loved Emma Carroll, and he needed to tell her. The conflict was evident in her eyes as he could see her struggling with how to handle the weight of the statement he'd just made.

"I love you, Captain," she whispered back, and then he smiled his dazzling all-American, iconic smile. He lifted her up gently into his arms and carried her into her room. The softness of her own bed met her back, and she eased into the comfort of it. The warmth of Steve's body remained over her, signaling to her that he was going to take down the barrier between them. His urgency slowed into a more slowly heated passion, taking the time to kiss her and touch her. His hands skimmed over her body lightly, and her hands began working on the buttons of his shirt.

For a moment, he paused, but he didn't take her hands away. He let her continue to unbutton his shirt until the last button was undone. Her hands skimmed over his shoulders, pushing the shirt off of him and leaving him bare and exposed to her. Her sea-colored eyes scanned over him in amazement. Not a single scratch on his body. How could a human being be so perfect?

Emma removed her own shirt and shorts so that he wouldn't have to. When he lowered his body on top his hers, his hard muscles were bare against her stomach, and she could feel every inch of his toned body. Steve's mixed feelings of insecurity and passion enveloped her. She could feel them swirling around her, and she rubbed her hands through his hair, over his skin, against his lips. Without addressing the issue, she removed her bra for him because she figured he didn't quite understand how that worked.

Far too quickly and far too slowly all at once, they were undressed, feeling each other's bare skin as they touched and committed themselves to each other. All the while, Emma could feel her own heart pounding in rhythm to Steve's. He was nervous, but he couldn't turn back now. He settled between her thighs, his eyes bright and clear with anticipation and a mixture of emotions, and her hand slipped between them to guide him. When he slid inside her for the first time, they both stilled. With every touch of his hand, every brush of his lips, every breath he exhaled, Emma could feel herself healing bit by bit. She'd been a nurse for a year, and she was just now finding her medicine.


	15. Ready

**Again, shoutouts to the wonderful hockeygurl39, ZabuzasGirl, Vanillamarilla, Loki'sdreamer, and ****m9ower! Thank y'all so much for your reviews, and thank you to everyone who has reviewed, read this story, favorited it, or followed it! Your support means so much more than I could ever express.**

**I was relieved to get positive feedback on the Stemma sex scene! I was worried that I'd rushed it. I know I should've gone into more detail (trust me, I love reading long, drawn out sex scenes so don't feel creepy if you enjoy them as much as I do haha), but since it was Steve's first time I didn't want to be too disrespectful. Again, I feel bad about disrespecting fictional characters haha**

**Well, guys, this is it. This is the last chapter. I will be posting the first chapter of the Avengers sequel tonight. I promise you. It'll be called Acting on Instinct, and it'll be rated T under the Avengers category. (Yes, the rating will change to M because it ALWAYS does. I love writing those smutty scenes ;)) The story will be told like Survival Skills was with Grace and Tony as the main characters. Yes, Steve and Emma will be in the story, and they'll have a lot of attention put on them, but they won't be the focus of it. Again, if you haven't read Survival Skills, and you're planning on following Trace and Stemma to the Avengers sequel, PLEASE read it because there's so much information that you'll miss if you don't read that.**

**Again, the title of the Avengers sequel will be Acting on Instinct, and I'll be posting the first chapter tonight. Feel free to follow/favorite me to receive notifications for when I've posted it!**

**Geez, my Author's Notes get longer and longer. Sorry, guys! Let me wrap it up. Thank you all for your endless support. I'm so touched to know that you guys have enjoyed this story that much. Thank you, and I love each and every one of you guys 3**

* * *

Chapter 15

The smell of coffee and bacon made Emma's nose twitch, the deliciousness of the scent forcing her awake. Blearily, she opened her eyes and blinked as she tried to focus her eyes and get the sleep out of them. Her body was sore from all the events of yesterday. The explosion hadn't harmed her very much at all, aside from the cut on her face, but a deep ache had settled into her muscles. Sitting up, she assessed the damage and resolved to take an Advil.

She glanced over to her left and saw that Steve wasn't there. At the thought of Steve's name, her heart did a little somersault, and she smiled before she could stop herself. Steve. Everything had happened last night flooded her with a pleasant glow; she even allowed herself to give credit to Steve as to why she might be so sore this morning. A professional clang of pans drew her attention back to the action in the kitchen. She slid out of bed and hurried to the bathroom.

Her heart was pounding as she took her usual morning pee. What was she going to do now? How was he going to act around her? Did he even know how to use half the devices in the kitchen? All of these thoughts rushed through her head. She flushed and began washing her hands before she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

"Jesus," she mumbled, taking in the sight of her wild light hair and the smudged make up. She wondered if Steve had seen her look like this. Steve. Fuck, Steve. Her heart gave another jolt at the thought of his name, and again, she couldn't hide her smile. She took the time to brush her teeth and brush her hair out, deciding to put it in a loose bun at the top of her head. Much to her annoyance, a few strands hung down around her face as they usually did instead of staying up. She felt like a high school girl again, she thought, examining herself in the mirror for any kind of imperfection that Steve might notice. Then again, she knew that it wouldn't matter because Steve would take her exactly as she was, and that was what she'd grown to love about him.

She finally decided that she looked ok, and she made the decision to brave going out into the kitchen. She took a breath to still her racing heart—God, could hearts even beat this quickly?—and put one foot in front of the other until she was out in the kitchen/living room area. Sure enough, Steve was expertly handling the stove and the spatula as he flipped bacon. Two plates were set on the counter. One was already full of bacon, and the other was empty, waiting for him to be done.

The floor creaked as she took her last step. He turned around over his shoulder, pausing when he saw her. He even looked a little embarrassed, a light flush creeping up into his cheeks. Emma loved it. He looked young and happy, the way he _should _look. He didn't look like a super soldier to her; he looked like any young man who was cooking for his girlfriend. Girlfriend. Was it even ok to think that? Was she his girlfriend? She wanted to slap herself across the face to get her thoughts to shut up, but she smiled at him.

"Good morning," she said brightly.

"Good morning," he returned, smiling at her before returning to the bacon. He gave the strips one more flip, and then he carefully and efficiently deposited them on the empty plate. He put the pan in the sink and turned back to her, holding the plate out to her.

"I made breakfast. I hope it's ok that I touched your stuff. I wasn't prying," he said quickly, almost looking shy. Emma walked towards him and took the plate, still beaming from ear to ear. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the mouth. When she pulled back, she looked at him, and he was grinning back. They both took their plates and sat at the island in the kitchen, side by side. Steve got back up and poured two cups of coffee before returning back to her.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked. She nodded.

"I did. Did you?" she asked.

"Best sleep I've gotten in a long time," he replied, that shy look creeping back onto his face. Suddenly, a look of concern darkened his features, and he looked back at her, almost slightly alarmed.

"Hey, you're ok, right? I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked.

"Oh! No. God, no. You were fine, just perfect," Emma said, reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. Her touch was calming and reassuring, just like everything about her was. Steve's pulse slowed, and he nodded, sneaking a glimpse at her. She was so earnest, so open all the time.

"Ok. I wanted to make sure that you were ok," he said, feeling slightly lame as he finished.

"Are _you _ok?" she asked. Her eyebrows were raised, and the concern radiated into his body. His heart melted at her question; she was taking the time to be concerned about him. He wondered when the last time someone had been concerned about him had been. Instantly, he thought of his mother and how kind and gentle she'd always been with him. Maybe that was why he loved Emma. She was caring and kind and gentle. She had all the same qualities that the woman he'd respected the most had had, too.

"I'm fabulous," he answered and flashed her a wide grin.

"Perfect," she said softly. She took a sip of her coffee. "Wow, this is great!"

"I like coffee," Steve said with a shrug by way of explanation.

"I can never seem to get it just right. By the way, I called Agent Coulson last night. He was the one who asked me to watch you," she said carefully, hoping that she wasn't bringing up anything sensitive. He frowned slightly and looked at her questioningly.

"What did you say?" he asked.

"I told him that he didn't need me anymore. You're emotionally and mentally stable," she said slowly.

"So you're not working for SHIELD anymore?" he asked. She nodded happily.

"Kind of. I mean, I'm a nurse for SHIELD so _technically _I'm still working for them, but I'm not, well, keeping up with you or anything because they asked me to." Her words came out in a rush, and she sounded embarrassed. Saying it out loud was even worse than thinking about it, she realized. Her neck grew hot, and she knew she was turning red.

"So that means we can officially be together?" Steve asked. The pitch of his voice rose higher at the end so his statement sounded more like a question. Emma looked up at him sharply and smiled one of those dazzling smiles he'd come to love so much. Her grey-green eyes were light and sparkling, and he knew that he'd always remember the way she looked at him as she did in that moment, casual, relaxed, and so lovely he couldn't even breathe.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Perfect," he said softly and kissed her. Captain Steve Rogers had never tasted sunshine, but when her lips met his, he tasted sunshine and daylight. He never wanted to live a day without that light in his life again, and he was going to start today.

* * *

"Hey, look, we're in a magazine," Tony announced, leaning over to show Grace the picture of the two of them that had been taken at the last fundraiser just before Grace had been assigned to her mission. She scrutinized it with her scorching amber eyes and nodded in approval.

"Huh, we look cute," she said.

"Please, we look great. We _always _look great," Tony corrected, looking almost offended. He took a bite of the plate of fruit that was in front of him and then guzzled a few swallows of his coffee. Damn, the fruit basket that Pepper had brought with her was spot on. Tony did love a good fruit basket.

"Besides, that dress was really easy to take off," he said nonchalantly. Grace rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

"I swear, that's all you ever think about," she said.

"Not true. I think about suits, my company, and my hair," he said in a tone that was dead serious.

"Excuse me. I stand corrected."

"Jarvis, what's the temperature like in Santorini, Greece?" Tony asked.

"Seventy degrees Fahrenheit, sir," Jarvis replied. Tony took another swig of his coffee.

"Wanna go to Santorini?" he asked.

"Excuse me?" Grace replied.

"Santorini. You, me, the beach, the sun. No paparazzi. No SHIELD," he said. He was always springing these spur of the moment trips on her, but it was just something else that she'd gotten used to.

"You really want to go to Greece right now? Today?" she asked.

"Yeah. Honey, this is the first time in three months I've had you to myself. I'm doing ok with the suits, you have a month off. Let's go," he pleaded. "The doctor said you need to relax and take it easy, and what better way is there to do that than go to Greece and just be in the motherfucking sun all day?"

"I can't believe you're talking me into this," she mumbled. He leaned forward and pecked her on the lips.

"There are nude beaches in Greece," he said suggestively and raised his eyebrows, only to receive a gentle swat on the arm. He eased back into his chair and looked at the woman next to him.

"Jarvis, tell Happy to get the car ready in an hour for the airport. Also, call the airport and tell them to prepare my jet," he ordered.

"Right away, sir," Jarvis answered dutifully. Tony watched Grace eat and marveled at how things had turned out. Only yesterday he'd been so worried about her, and now here he was planning a trip to Greece with her. Was she the one? Yeah. He knew it without a doubt. The years of sleeping with leggy blondes and big, blue eyes were gone, and he didn't miss them the slightest bit. How could he miss leggy blondes and big, blue eyes when what he really loved was long, brown hair and big, amber eyes?

"How do you like being on sick leave now?" he asked and nudged her playfully with his elbow.

"Lovin' it," she replied with a wink. "I'd much rather be in Greece with the sun and the ocean and you than here with responsibilities, duh."

"See, you should quit and then we could do this all the time," he replied easily.

"Quit? I just made friends at work," she answered dramatically. Tony rolled his eyes at her.

"Friends? Are you talking about that redheaded traitor?" he asked.

"Her name is Agent Romanoff," Grace said gently.

"Whatever. Traitor. Imposter."

"You're never going to forgive her."

"Do I ever forgive anyone who's imposter-ed me?"

"Tony, that's not a word."

"Bullshit."

Grace laughed as she finished her fruit. She loved mornings with Tony. Usually, he was down in the lab by the time she got up. He also had lots of meetings to attend, even though he wasn't CEO of Stark Industries anymore, and he was gone a lot of the time throughout the day, so she cherished the mornings that she got with him. He was rarely a morning person whenever he had to get up, so she especially loved whenever he was in a good mood in the mornings. Her complicated, lovely man, she thought, drinking the last of her coffee.

As much as she was looking forward to her vacation with Tony, a small bit of worry clung to the back of her mind. Tony was convinced that she wasn't fully indestructible, but she wasn't totally convinced yet. She'd just have to let it go for the time being and focus on having a good time with him in Greece. She was on sick leave. She wouldn't be called in to deal with anything related to SHIELD or a mission.

She also knew that Director Fury was wanting to act on the Avengers Initiative. The day before she'd left for her mission, he'd called a brief meeting with her, Phil Coulson, Natasha Romanoff, and Maria Hill. He said that they needed to be prepared in case something happened because he was ready to activate if need be. He said that the world couldn't remain at peace for much longer without something happening, and they needed to be ready.

She looked at Tony again, admiring him once more, feeling almost overwhelmed by the intense swell in her chest. He caught her looking at him, and he winked at her.

"Ready, Princess?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied softly, gazing into his deep brown eyes. "I'm ready."


End file.
